After Life

by Jacquie Underdown

  Before last night when she learned that by remaining a human, she put not only the lives of her parents and brothers at risk, but all who inhabited this planet, she would have sulked about being unordinary or some other trivial matter.

  Smelling the sweet vanilla pancake, listening to her mother’s sultry humming, was now felt with such visceral wonderment, her chest swelled and head dizzied with its magnificence.

  And it was wonderful moments like these that she had taken for granted.

  She couldn’t possibly dismiss this time with her mother as ordinary. Any time with the people she loved surpassed ordinariness—each moment was blessed.

  Zoe scooped the pancake and placed it on the plate next to the stove. She added a small knob of butter and poured more batter in to the pan.

  “How did you sleep?” Mum asked.

  “Really well,” she lied. “Must be because I’m home.”

  Mum came to her with a smile on her face and pulled Zoe into her arms for a cuddle. “I’m so glad, honey.”

  When her mother pulled away, Zoe quickly lowered her gaze back to the pan to hide all the apology and fear and sadness that would be obvious in her eyes. “I love you, Mum,” she whispered, feeling that love permeating every part of her soul.

  “Oh, honey, I love you too.”

  When the pancakes were ready, the rest of the family were called into the kitchen. As they sat around the table together, talking and laughing, Zoe forced herself to remain in the moment rather than succumbing to the insidious distraction that came from contemplating how this was their last breakfast together as a family.

  Tomorrow morning would be different.

  The rest of her parents’ life would be much different.

  Guilt gnawed at her for needing to put them through this.

  No, she wasn’t their biological daughter, but they loved her like she was, and she loved them like they were her real parents.

  Yes, the more she visited the Afterlife and the more she physically changed, she knew this wasn’t her true reality.

  But all reality was, was an agreement that something existed. And for Zoe, for her parents, for her brothers, they had each agreed that they were family and that they fiercely loved each other.

  “Everything okay, Zoe?” Dad asked. He had the kindest green eyes. Eyes that conveyed trust and loyalty and warmth. She had never noticed before. Guilt stirred again. She should have noticed that.

  Zoe nodded and offered her warmest smile before shovelling a forkful of pancakes into her mouth.

  After breakfast, Zoe organised a game of basketball on the driveway with her father and brothers. They hadn’t done this since she was fifteen and realised she was able to see ghosts.

  Perhaps Zoe had been too proud to concede that she could ever enjoy the company of her brothers and father, and, in a more underhanded way of thinking, secretly punished them all for what was happening to her.

  But not today. Today she would relish this time with them.

  With all the changes taking place in her body, her healing abilities, and the increase of muscle mass, she was a near match to the comparatively taller, stronger guys in her family.

  As she bumped and shouldered against them, she would often throw her head back and laugh. She taunted them when they went to take a shot and received plenty of teasing in return.

  For over an hour, they all sweated it up on the court—a happy family.

  While she spent this carefree time with them, Zoe didn’t think about how much she would miss this kind of inconsequential fun nor how much she would miss these guys.

  She didn’t contemplate how grief-stricken her brothers would be or how her father would cry and try to understand how this could happen to them when Zoe was no longer here.

  No, she didn’t think about that until afterwards when she stood under the shower rose, her tears blending with the warm flow of water.

  Zoe sunk to the shower floor and sobbed.

  How could she put this wonderful family through this? How could she possibly go through with this?

  It would be the most single-handed treacherous act she had ever committed. But she had no choice. Either she undertook this difficult task, or they would all die anyway.

  She just hoped to the gods that she had interpreted the situation right—that a plan was in motion to wipe out most of the world’s population in a cataclysmic weather event. And what Zoe knew about who was behind this plan, memories which were now hidden and obscured while she was a human incarnate, could help save them all.

  She had faith in Theron’s words, and she had to trust that faith.

  When Zoe managed to regain some composure, she drizzled eye-drops in each eye to dissolve the residual red from crying and headed downstairs.

  After some lunch, she wrangled her brothers to the informal lounge to play video games. Zoe didn’t mind gaming, it had always been a nice distraction from her illness.

  Online, there were no barriers—ethnic, language, mental—and everyone was on a level playing field. While she wasn’t taking strong medication that would severely disrupt her attention span, she would often sit with her brothers after school was over and homework completed and play for a couple of hours.

  Zoe nestled in between the boys on the couch and had a great time battling them for hours that melted away like minutes.

  When her fingers were sore from punching away at the controller, she put it aside and stood. She held her arms out to her brothers. They took her hands and eased from the couch. She turned to Seth, the eldest, and wrapped her arms around him. He sunk into her embrace, then lifted her into his arms and shook her a few times just to show who was boss.

  Zoe laughed and giggled.

  When he finally put her down, she hugged Braith. He chuckled as he wrapped his arms around her.

  Shifting back a little, so she had them both in sight, she looked at them in the eyes. “I love you both, okay? I know that’s hard to hear from your big sister, but just always remember that I do.”

  Her voice cracked as emotions snuck up on her. “And thank you for always sticking up for me. I’m not sure I’ve ever told you how much that means to me. You are both amazing, awesome brothers, and don’t you ever forget it.” Tears fell on her cheeks; she couldn’t help it.

  “Everything okay, Sis?”

  Zoe wiped at her tears. “A lot has happened to make me realise how much I love all the people in my life.”

  “We love you too,” Braith said a little awkwardly, but nonetheless genuine.

  Seth nodded in agreement.

  Zoe laughed and pulled them both in for another cuddle, all the while her heart felt like it was being torn from her chest.

  ◆◆◆

  Zoe helped her mother prepare dinner and ate her final meal with her family. In her own way, she had said goodbye to each of them. Dragging this day out any longer wouldn’t help.

  If she didn’t set her plan into motion now while her resolve was strong, despite that her heart was breaking, she would back out. So after cleaning the dishes, Zoe announced that she was tired and was going to take a long bath with her favourite bubble bath then head to bed.

  Zoe said goodnight to each of her family, cuddling them extra tight, lingering in their embrace a little longer. With a final glance at each of them, she told them she loved them and thanked them for the wonderful childhood she had.

  When tears cracked her voice and threatened to wet her eyes, she smiled shakily and headed up to bed.

  Each step up the staircase was taken with weary bones and weighted muscles because she knew she wasn’t coming back down again … alive.

  Chapter 41

  Zoe didn’t know how long she had soaked in the tub for—may have been an hour, may have been five minutes. Her time was shattered because her mind was racing—remembering all the memories she had of her family.

  In this moment, she didn’t think of any of the bad times, none of that mattered. Only the good. She remembered family holidays,
birthday parties, sleepovers at her house. She remembered the tickling fights with her brothers, the hide-n-seek, and the long afternoons spent fishing along the river during the school holidays.

  She’d had a good life, she truly had. Now that it was about to be over, she had gained perspective on that.

  The moments she thought were difficult and overruled all other moments were, in fact, incredibly small and insignificant. It was all the living in between those darker moments that shined so brightly they were blinding.

  Her reserve was growing weaker as each minute ticked by. Her heart was racing so hard she thought she may pass out.

  If she didn’t get this over with quickly, she wouldn’t go through with it.

  Zoe lifted herself out of the bath, left the bathwater in, and dried herself with a big fluffy towel. How appreciative she was of these tiny luxuries. She dressed into her pyjamas and hung the towel up neatly, but left a big puddle of water beneath her feet.

  Fluttering nerves beat wildly in her belly as she carefully placed a cake of soap on the tile in the middle of the puddle. It was important to her that her parents didn’t think she had intentionally killed herself—that would break them apart.

  She didn’t want them to, on top of dealing with their daughter dying, feel guilty that they had failed as parents. Zoe couldn’t bear that, and her parents didn’t deserve it. Yes, they’d had their moments like all families did, but they did the best they could.

  With trembling hands, Zoe reached under the sink for her decade-old hair dryer. She plugged it in and started to dry her hair haphazardly.

  Her entire body was shaking now; her legs were weak.

  After a few minutes, she stood with her back to the bath, the dryer still on and in her hand.

  With her foot, she stamped on the soap, letting it squelch between her toes then pushed it forward creating a skid of soap on the tiles.

  Taking a deep breath in, she closed her eyes, winced, and threw herself back into the bath.

  Chapter 42

  The space between the end of dead and the beginning of after was a void. No, not a void, more like a stretch of nothingness. But to say there was nothing implied that there was something somewhere. But there wasn’t. No time, no space, no light, no dark—the absence of anything.

  And then there was light.

  Sight.

  A sense of form.

  Touch.

  The river of liquid silver carving big slices from the dark sandy landscape.

  She could smell burning flesh. Tiny pink blisters formed a thin band along her upper arms. But there was no pain anymore. Not even emotional anguish, just an acceptance of what was and what would be—a freeing twist on apathy.

  In the distance, a flicker of red drew her attention.

  Marcus. So many times they had met, but never like this. Never as the dead.

  The atmosphere was turbulent, yet as still as silence, an unexplainable contradiction she had never managed to understand. As the big timber boat, seemingly moving without the need for sails or motors, floated along the dim waters toward her, Marcus was more visible.

  His red hooded cape billowed behind him. The boat anchored on the shore with a skid. “Well, well, well, I didn’t anticipate this. Get a little tired of your beloved human world?” His voice was deep and full, each word clear and precise.

  Zoe wasn’t in the right frame of mind to deal with his sarcasm, though. Around her neck came the familiar sensation of weight. She ran her fingers over the soft leather pouch strapped to her neck, then reached inside and retrieved the gold coin.

  The metal was cold and hard between her fingers. Her heart stuttered as her past shivered in her fingers, and rushed in with her first human memory.

  Her breaths came heavier as understanding dawned. Within this coin were all her human memories. And what was life, in the end, but an accumulation of memories? What was identity, in the end, when all that was stripped away?

  Could she so casually flip all that love and livingness over to Marcus?

  She peered at him, into his feverish eyes as he awaited the coin.

  No way. He would not have something so precious. Intuition strummed in her belly—she had to hold on to this. She needed the perspective of both lives. She needed to hold on to Theron, her family, her knowledge.

  “I’m dead now, so you can take me.”

  Marcus eyed the coin as she flipped it over between her fingers, the metal glinting as great flashes of lightning arced across the sky.

  His fingers stretched toward it across the dim space between them. But she would not allow his obsession with these coins belittle everything she had been through, not only throughout her life but especially in the last few days.

  Her existence had been bigger than a meagre gold coin and a safe passage across a river. Her existence had meant something to her and to others.

  Zoe tucked the coin back into her pouch. “No way. This will remain mine.”

  His eyes widened, lips curled into a snarl. “Give me that damn coin.”

  She strode to the shore and stepped into the rickety boat; the time-stained timber boards creaked under her weight. The river gushed louder in her ears, a soothing, rhythmic whooshing.

  “No. Now row.”

  “I won’t forget this,” he hissed.

  “Good. Nice to know we both value our memories.”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I don’t have to take you over to the other side. I could leave you here with the penniless waifs.”

  Zoe peered off into the distance. A flash of lightening illuminated the landscape and turned the shuffling, moaning waifs into horrifying silhouettes. A shudder wracked her.

  He was testing her, evident in his macho but hollow tone.

  “You could. But you won’t. Something tells me that I’m a different case to these other poor sods.”

  Marcus growled from his chest and turned away from her, his coat flapping as he did. He plunged his oar into the river and manoeuvred the boat away from the shore. “Did I mention that you really look like shit?”

  Zoe narrowed her eyes. “Like I care for your opinions.”

  Marcus shrugged. “What’s new?” He thrust the oar harder and deeper.

  Zoe sat back, eyes pinned on her surroundings as the river sped by. A thick grey fog tumbled across the gunmetal water, vanquishing it from sight. It appeared as though they were floating through the clouds.

  The blackened sky sat oppressively close, the lightning illuminating the craggy banks that flanked both sides of the river.

  What would happen to her when she reached her destination—wherever that may be?

  Would she see Theron again or was she too late?

  She bit down on her lip to stifle the gasp as realisation dawned on her. She had given Theron’s coin to Marcus, with all his human life contained within. Even if she did see him, would he even remember her?

  For a long time, the waters were still, but as the river edged down a shadowy narrow channel, it flowed faster and the water more agitated, not the rhythmic rolling she was used to, but a turgid flurry of waves that rocked the boat side to side, front to back.

  Marcus kept plodding the oar into the fog-covered river, slow and steady. As they entered the channel, the darkness thickened until it was a blanket coating everything. She couldn’t adjust her eyes.

  “I can’t see,” she shrieked, holding tightly to the timber board she was sitting upon.

  “Because you’re still thinking like a human. You don’t need eyes here.”

  Zoe shook her head. What?

  “It will all come flooding back soon enough.”

  Though she couldn’t see him, she did hear the challenge in that statement. She was sure now that what she knew but couldn’t remember, the reason for her leaving her human life behind, involved Marcus.

  After a long while, light filtered down upon them again and the river calmed. The sky overhead was shifting from black to pale purple like she was watching a water-colour pain
ting blending different hues from a pallet.

  A bright vibrancy coated the surroundings: cliffs covered with verdant grass, the dark silvery waters now blue and deep. In the distance, a village rose from the shoreline and scattered upwards along a steep cliff face. At the top was a colossal stone palace, inset in the ancient rock as though the cliff and the built structure were one and the same.

  When Zoe peered at Marcus again, there was a strange longing in his expression.

  “What?” she asked.

  He shook his head. “I forgot how your face looks when you’re passionate about something. You once looked that way at me.”

  From the brief memories she had been able to uncover, yes, she had once looked that way at him. But that passion had faded to distrust and hatred over time. She had learned of his infidelity, but she knew the reason why her emotions went awry ran much deeper than that, she just couldn’t remember what exactly.

  The boat skirted onto the white sandy bank, small pebbles and tiny fragments of shells grating along the hull. A lightness fell over her body, without her truly knowing why. But the word on the tip of her tongue explained her feelings well enough: home.

  Zoe climbed out of the boat, feet landing on the cool gritty sand, clumps squeezing between her toes as she strode across the rocky shoreline. A long stone staircase ascended up the cliff face for hundreds of metres. Her eyes widened as she stood at the base and peered upwards.

  She spun back to Marcus, but he was already shifting away from the shore, out into the wide bay.

  She thought about her parents. Had they found her body yet? And what about this world? Had she made the right decision to permanently call here home?

  Whorls of confusion spiralled in her mind like dense storm clouds. The memories hidden away rushed to the surface but thudded hard against that thick layer of ice, and Zoe’s head ached.

  The silence, the lack of anyone who could take her under their wing and lead her to something remotely familiar was not what she had expected.