The Death of My First Assignment (Death Series)

by Ami Urban

I can only hope this girl believes what I have to tell her.

  Because I had nothing better to do, I sat in the Phoenix airport for three hours, just people-watching.

  This high school girl ran through my head in so many different scenarios, I couldn’t keep up. She’d probably done and seen it all. Would she believe me when I told her I was from the afterlife?

  I turned my attention to the bar across the way. Even though I could have used a stiff drink, I couldn’t buy one because I was perpetually eighteen years old. Sometimes, it sucked being me.

  I hated airports.

  All I could do was watch as men in business suits with cell phones glued to their heads rushed by. On occasion, I’d catch a glimpse of a father and mother, towing their child or children along, smiling and laughing.

  A while ago, it would hurt to see that. knowing I could never have kids with a woman.

  It’s hard to find someone who will live as long as I will. I’d thought I’d pretty much numbed that feeling.

  But when I met Katie, it all came roaring back. She would have lived long enough, too… If she hadn’t died.

  I pushed to my feet. I had to do something to occupy my mind.

  Up until 1984, the drinking age in Texas had been eighteen. But then law got in the way, so I was forced to be a non-drinker forever.

  I could have used some of my other abilities and planted a thought in the bartender’s head, but that wasn’t a decent use of my skill.

  Taking a seat at the bar, I ordered a Coke—yeah, lame—and leaned back in the chair. My thoughts drifted to Serena Gibbons. I’d done a Google search on her the night before and found her Facebook profile.

  She was pretty, English, tall, and stuck up. She’d been singing pop music since she was eight; signed a record deal at fourteen. But after it flopped, she moved to the states to get away from the reporters. Headlines all over England caught her drinking underage, smoking all kinds of illegal stuff, and car crashes almost every month.

  I was surprised I hadn’t been called to her sooner. She was dying in less than twenty-four hours. I wondered how much time they’d give her to achieve her ultimate goal. That was, after all, the only reason I was being sent to her.

  See, when someone dies, they go to another dimension. They leave their body behind and ascend to the next level of being.

  From what I hear, it’s a great place, too. But I’ll never know that because I sold my soul to a wraith when I was eighteen.

  I exchanged it for a rare soul—a healer’s soul. Someone I loved was dying, and I wanted to save her. But in the end, I was too late.

  Now, I was repaying that wraith by suffering through his dirty work.

  I’d never once taken a soul for him, but his idea of torture was to make me help people achieve what I never could.

  My guess was he could feed off my misery and grow stronger. I hated wraiths.

  “Rum and Coke? My kind of guy,” a slurred voice to my left said.

  My drink had come and I didn’t even realize it. I turned to find a robust blond woman eyeing me. Although she was smiling a little too wide and wobbling a little too much, she was attractive—a nice southern belle.

  “Yeah.” I plastered on my trademark teasing smile. “Can’t get enough of them.”

  I hated Rum and Coke almost as much as I hated wraiths.

  “If my glass wasn’t so full, I’d ask you to buy me one.”

  If her glass wasn’t so full, I couldn’t buy her one either way…

  “Well, we’ll just have to wait then, huh?” For some reason, I could never turn off my charm. Her smile broadened.

  “Where ya headed, sweetheart?” She gripped the bar for support as she almost fell out of her chair.

  “Dallas. You?”

  Her face drooped. “Aww… No fair. I’m goin’ to Tallahassee.” She took a long draw on her drink.

  “Too bad. What are you going to Tallahassee for? Business or pleasure?”

  She pointed a lazy finger at me. “What do you think?”

  “I think…” I put a hand to my chin in thought. “Business. Because if you were going for pleasure, you’d be going with me.”

  “Ooh-wee!” She slapped a hand on the bar. “You certainly are forward. I wonder if I have time to change my flight…”

  “You don’t, Melissa.”

  I turned to find the bartender watching us. He shook his head when the woman pouted.

  She heaved a sigh. “Damn.”

  Then, she ran her hand up my arm, her fingernails tickling my skin.

  “Well then, maybe we’ll just have to get a little alone time in before our planes leave, hmm?” She tossed me a wink.

  And just like that, I froze. I hadn’t meant for it to go that far. But what the hell was I expecting? To give in to a suggestive flirt without consequence? What a ridiculous idea.

  I swallowed hard and allowed a calm smile to remain on my face. “Name the place and time.

  Leaning forward, her lips brushed my ear as she whispered, “Five minutes in the private Ladies’ Room. You’ll never know what hit you.

  She stood up, clumsily swinging her purse and almost catching me in the arm.

  Part of me wanted to call out to her and explain the whole thing was a misunderstanding.

  But that male pride of mine won out. I kept my mouth shut as I watch her sashay drunkenly out of the bar.

  “That’s why I always make her check her bags,” the bartender mumbled. He was busy cleaning a glass with a white rag, eyeing me. “She travels through here a lot. Always picks up a guy or two at my bar. Don’t feel like you have to go through with it.”

  “I can handle myself.” Even though I’d said them, I was unsure of my own words.

  “Sure, sure,” he said as if he believed me. “But seeing as how you’re not old enough to drink, I thought I’d spare you from a woman you’re not old enough to date.”

  “I said I can handle myself.”

  Chapter Five

  I could handle myself.

  That’s why I was sitting in my car outside my old house—just waiting. Mr. Carter kept telling me not to, but I was a big girl. I wouldn’t get caught.

  And out of nowhere, there they all were.

  A nest of six tumbled out of the doorway to my old house. And as I sat there in my car watching two of the boys chase each other around the driveway, I smiled.

  I smiled because my mom and dad were smiling.

  My mother looked so at home with a toddler on her hip. The little girl had a pink bow in her blonde hair. She was smiling wide at her new mother as she sang a happy song.

  My dad stooped down to pick up the youngest boy, spinning him in a circle before strapping him into a car seat.

  They all looked so perfect—without me.

  I had to keep reminding myself that they once loved me when I was here; that they still did love me, but they were trying to heal.

  There were nights when I would lie alone in bed, hoping they’d never get over it. And those were the nights I’d cry myself to sleep.

  That’s not who I was. What kind of person wishes her parents would never be happy again after the death of their child?

  A bad one, that’s what.

  The car backed out of the driveway, so I ducked down.

  What was I doing there, anyway? It was stupid.

  I could never talk to them again; never show my face.

  A parent never forgets their child, even if that child’s appearance has changed.

  When I was sure their car had gone, I lifted up again.

  I can’t remember how long I sat there staring at the house. Memories flooded through me.

  I remembered moving there years earlier, trying desperately to make friends.

  A flash of myself at a young age sliding on my belly down a makeshift waterslide on the front lawn sped through my brain.

  I remembered the first time my friend, Dee, and I did a ghost hunt in each room; the time my first boyfriend, Jim, tried to kiss
me on the sidewalk and I chickened out.

  Another memory flooded through me.

  I was in my room, crying because I didn’t want to die. Was someone there with me? I tried my best, but couldn’t remember. Then, just as quick as the memory had come, it faded. Yeah, it must have been a fluke. I was sixteen and still had yet to kiss a guy. How pathetic.

  My cell phone buzzed in the cup holder, vibrating the plastic and startling me. My hand flew to my heart. It was Mr. Carter.

  “Hello?”

  “Katie? Everything okay?”

  “Yeah...” I wiped the stray tears from my cheek. “What’s doin’?”

  “Your plane leaves in an hour. I just wanted to make sure you were all set for your first assignment,” he said.

  “I’m good.” I really didn’t need him checking up on me.

  “Are you at the airport?”

  “Yeah.” Not a good idea.

  A moment passed. A prickly sensation crawled up my neck.

  “Quit trying to read me! Or I’ll hang up!”

  “Quit lying to me and I won’t have to read you,” he said in a smooth tenor. “Why are you at your parents’ house? You’re going to get caught.”

  “No, I’m not. I’m careful.”

  “Get to the airport, please. You can’t be late for your first assignment.”

  I sighed. “Fine.”

  I hung up and tossed my phone over my shoulder onto the passenger seat.

  Grumbling to myself, I took one last look at my old house and turned the key.

  My car roared to life. I made a quick U-turn, speeding off down the hill.

  “What does he know?” I asked myself. “He’s never even been on an assignment. He’s a damned wraith, for Christ’s sake!”

  “Yes, but at least he’s familiar with the rules.”

  “Rules, schmules. I can recite the damn rules in my sleep. Besides, rules are meant to be broken.”

  “Not these.”

  “Oh, yeah? How do you—?”

  I slammed on the brakes at a red light.

  I’d been so busy with my own thoughts I hadn’t even noticed someone was actually talking to me. I swallowed hard, turning my head in a slow arch.

  In the passenger seat, a strange young man was smiling at me.

  He was tall, skinny, and had cocoa colored skin. His eyes were a startling bluish-gray and his face was long, lean, and kind of pretty.

  He cleared his throat. “How do I what? Go on, finish your sentence.”

  He had a melodious voice. It was soft, a little deep, and drenched in a proper English accent.

  He smiled again, long lines creasing around his mouth.

  “Who are you?” I asked. “And...what are you doing in my car?”

  He sighed dramatically, laying his head back against the seat.

  “How droll... That always seems to be the primary question. Who are you?”

  He scratched at a nose a bit too big for his face. “Why can’t anyone ever inquire as to how my voyage went? It’s so discourteous...”

  “Maybe if you tell me who you are, I’ll ask you how your trip went!”

  “I don’t acquiesce with humans.”

  At least that settled the issue of how he’d appeared in my car.

  He must’ve been a wraith.

  Well, if he thought he was going to get my soul, he had another thing coming.

  “The light’s green, darling.”

  I jumped, stepping on the gas and racing through the intersection. He chuckled to himself with a soft breath.

  As I entered the freeway, someone honked at me for not looking over my shoulder.

  “Perhaps you should slow down, Katherine. I wouldn’t want you kicking it before we even get on the plane,” he said.

  “We? Who’s we? And how do you know my name?”

  He sighed again. “Why does it—”

  “And how dare you call me darling! You don’t know me well enough! You don’t know me at all! Which brings me back to my original question!”

  I swung onto highway 280. “Who the hell are you!? If you’re a wraith, I’m not interested!”

  “A wraith? How redundant... But, if you simply must know…” He leaned over the center console. “I’m a psychopomp.”

  “A what, now?”

  “Actually…” He sat back and tapped a finger against his chin, “I’m the only psychopomp.”

  “And a psychopomp is...?” I signaled to merge lanes. I was coming close to pulling over so I could kick this stranger out of my car.

  “They told you nothing, did they?” He inspected his fingernails. “I’ve been known by many names: Charon, Plegyas, Son of Erebus...the Grim Reaper...”

  My foot went down on the brake again. The tires squealed and other drivers honked, trying to swerve out of the way. The back end of my green Toyota fishtailed, almost making a complete circle in the far lane.

  “Good God, Katherine… At least warn a demon before you do something wicked.”

  “You...you’re...Death?” I clenched my hands around the steering wheel.

  “Or at least put on your Hazards.” He ignored me as he pressed the little button above my stereo.

  The intermittent click of the hazard lights filled the car.

  “You’re Death!?”

  Letting go of the wheel, I reached over and tugged a handful of his shirt. Then, I pushed my face as close to his as I could.

  “Answer me!”

  “My, my…” He motioned for me to let go.

  I did.

  He smoothed the material of his shirt for a brief moment before giving me “the eye.” “I prefer to go by a less conspicuous name.”

  “So, you are Death?”

  “Well...not the scythe-wielding bag of bones covered in dreary black that you know,” he said. “But yes.”

  “What do you want from me?”

  “You? I don’t want anything from you, darling.”

  There was that word again.

  “I’m here to assist.”

  “Assist? Assist who? Assist me? Because you’ve almost caused two accidents already!” I harrumphed.

  He sucked his teeth. “Really, I’m here for Ms. Gibbons. But since it’s your first assignment, I thought I’d introduce myself.”

  “What is it you do exactly?”

  “You’re going to miss your flight.”

  Why did afterlifers have to be so elusive? I was just starting to get the hang of Mr. Carter not answering my questions like clock-work.

  I shut the hazards off and started the car again.

  As I was merging back into traffic, the stranger next to me cleared his throat again.

  “Don’t you remember your Greek Mythology?”

  “I don’t seem to remember much of anything these days.”

  “Then you don’t remember Charon?”

  “Besides the moon of Pluto...no,” I said.

  “Of course…” Another dramatic sigh. “No one remembers the unsung hero who ferried Hercules, Orpheus, Dante, and Dionysus across the river Styx... To name a few...”

  “But...my teacher told me the Greek Gods weren’t real…” I glanced sideways at him.

  “Of course they were fictional, Katherine—”

  “Stop calling me that! I hate that! My name is Katie.”

  “As I was saying, Katherine…”

  I groaned.

  “I simply direct people to their next destination. I’m a ferryman...to the afterlife.” He smiled.

  “You ferry everybody?”

  “Isn’t that what Death does?”

  I hoped he didn’t have that annoying habit of answering questions with other questions.

  “I’m not prejudiced,” he added. “I help everyone.”

  “Uh-huh… So how come I didn’t meet you when I died?”

  “I would imagine it’s because you weren’t supposed to die.” He grinned as I exited the freeway.

  “You just have an answer for everything, don’t you?”
>
  “Why wouldn’t I? I’m Death.”

  * * *

  “Excuse me…may I have another cushion?”

  I had to say…I’d never been in a situation in which the following sentence would make any sense:

  I’d only been hanging around with Death for an hour, and I was already tired of his antics.

  It sounded even weirder when I said it out loud.

  “I adore that word,” he said. “Antics… Fits me to a T, I might add. It makes me sound mischievous—and devilishly handsome…in this body, at least.”

  “You are trying my patience.”

  “Hold on a moment! You have patience? I haven’t seen a modicum of patience this entire time! Now, where is that stewardess with my cushion?”

  “Have mine if it’ll shut you up!” I swung my pillow at his face. It hit him with a light “paff.” When it came away, he was still smiling.

  “How kind you are. Your parents were very generous with chromosomes.”

  I huffed and sat back in my seat, closing my eyes. Maybe if I ignored him, he’d go away.

  Alas, I heard the attendant come back, and he bragged about having three pillows all to himself.

  It was going to be a long flight.

  “Katie.”

  “What could you possibly want to torture me with now?” I opened my eyes, fully prepared to tear him a new one.

  But when my sights landed on Mr. Carter, wedging himself into the window seat in front of us, I sucked in a breath.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Hmm, I figured you’d be happier to see me than that,” he admitted. “I got a job subbing for a teacher at Woodrow Wilson High who mysteriously came down with an illness. I came to offer my help.”

  I clamped both hands on the top of my head, letting them slide down to my neck as I spoke.

  “Why does everyone want to offer me their help!?”

  “Everyone? Who’s everyone? It’s just me.” He seemed puzzled.

  “Where is your etiquette, Katherine?”

  “It went extinct with the Dodo.”

  “All the same…introduce me to your colleague,” my companion said.

  I eyed him.

  I was actually afraid to introduce the two of them, because I had no idea what surreptitious ideas my new friend would get when he found out Mr. Carter used to be a wraith.

  In the end, I heaved a sigh and held out both hands.