“At least we tried,” Christian said.
“Did you find Denise?”
“No, but she’s got to be around here somewhere.” Christian scanned the area. “We need to find out where she’s holed up,” he added.
Ethan thought back to his nightmares of the massacre. He’d been so focused on the dead bodies that he hadn’t paid attention to other details like he should have. He’d seen chaos. Had seen blood. He’d heard screams and sirens. And something else. His thoughts churned.
“Wait! I’ve got it!” Christian exclaimed. “She’s up there!” He jabbed his finger at a nearby apartment building. “That’s the perfect spot for a blind. She could shoot down on the crowd that way.”
Ethan’s spirits sank. How would they ever locate her? The building wasn’t large - only five stories - but it had to have more than a hundred units.
“Don’t worry. We’ll find her,” Christian said, reading his mind.
The young cop returned and handed Ethan his license. “You’re all clear,” she said, though she looked unhappy about it. “Take him home,” she told Christian. “I don’t want to see you two back here.”
“No problem, Officer.” Christian flashed a grin. “We’ll be out of your hair.”
“That was close,” Ethan muttered as they hurried away from the cop. He had hoped that the crowd would be let back into the building, but the two cops with their dogs had re-entered, no doubt making another pass. Those kids were still at risk.
“You ready to visit that apartment building?” Christian asked.
Glancing at his watch, Ethan saw that it was quarter to twelve. They’d have to hurry. “Let’s go.”
He and Christian ran across the busy street, dodging cars as traffic hammered down in both directions. Once in the building, Christian said, “Let’s split up. You take odds. I’ll take evens. Start at the top.” He pulled a small gun from an ankle holster and pressed it into Ethan’s hand. “You know how to use this?”
Ethan hated the feel of it. “Kind of. My dad tried to teach me how to shoot when I was a kid.” Back when Ethan’s dad was still trying to turn him into the kind of son he’d always wanted. One who played football and went hunting, not played guitar and went shopping.
“Good enough. If you find Denise, call me, and I’ll come running. I’ll take care of the rest.” Christian’s hard eyes glinted. It was chilling to see how quickly he could change from warm to cold.
Together, they raced up the stairs to the top of the building. Ethan stopped at the fourth floor, while Christian moved on to the fifth. Ethan started at the end of the hall and began banging on doors. The first one was opened by a wide-eyed child whose mother was sprawled on the couch watching TV. “Who is it?” the woman demanded.
“A stranger,” the child reported.
The mother looked up. “What the hell do you want? You’re interrupting my show.”
Ethan started to reply, but found his eyes glued to the TV set. Something itched at the back of his mind. Something from his nightmare.
“Well?”
“I…” The TV was turned to a DIY channel where a young couple was restoring an old Victorian house.
Suddenly, Ethan had a flashback to his vision. That’s what he’d been missing! The noise of the TV in the background. Only, it hadn’t been this program. The program he’d heard had featured a bullhorn of a man, who’d been shouting about immigration. If Ethan could find who was watching that station, he might locate Denise!
“Sorry, wrong apartment,” he said and hurried off down the hall. He paused by each door, listening. He’d almost made it to the end when he was met with a sudden blast of sound. It was the bullhorn.
Finding the apartment door locked, Ethan threw his shoulder against it. When that didn’t work, he kicked it as hard as he could. The wooden frame splintered. Two more kicks, and he was inside.
Denise stood by the windows overlooking the nightclub, a gun in her hand. Propped against the wall were several rifles equipped with scopes.
Ethan turned his gun on her. “Drop your weapon.”
She turned to look at Ethan, horror like a rising tide in her eyes. “You’ve got this all wrong. I’m not the person you want to stop.”
Ethan flicked his eyes around the room. The rifles, the window overlooking the club, even the blaring voice of the bullhorn on TV…all of it was exactly as he’d seen it in his vision. What could be missing?“You’re the Reaper, aren’t you?” Ethan asked.
“No.” A man stepped out of the shadows. In his arms was another rifle. “I am.”
Chapter Thirty-four
The man turned his weapon on Ethan. “Drop it.”
Ethan did, slowly. “You’re the one posting those flyers.” He should have guessed. The man had smelled of crazy the moment Ethan had met him. Here, finally, was someone he could imagine going onto the Final Cut. Someone, unfortunately, worthy of the name the Reaper.
“Who is this guy, mom?” the man demanded.
Mom? Ethan tore his eyes away from the man to look at Denise. Yes, there were similarities in their pushed-up noses and fleshy chins. This had to be Robbie.
“He says his name is Ethan,” Denise said. Her voice wobbled.
Ethan flicked his eyes around the room. It was papered with blaring news headlines printed from the computer. One said, “Muslim Schools Ban Our Culture.” Another announced that blue-eyed children were superior. Added to that were several racist caricatures of a black and brown men’s faces with a targets superimposed over them. Denise had said that Robbie hated his brother because of the way he looked. Now, Ethan understood why.
Robbie crossed the room and shoved his rifle under Ethan’s chin. “Looks like you walked in at the wrong time.”
The bore of the shotgun felt like ice. Ethan was nearly breathless with panic. At the very moment when his mind needed to remain clear, it was struggling to form coherent thoughts. What the hell was he supposed to do now? Wait for Christian to save him again? Pray that the police showed up?
“You’re the Reaper?” Ethan asked, hoping a few questions would buy him time. “The one on the Final Cut?”
The gun lowered ever so slightly. “What do you know about that?” Robbie asked suspiciously.
“I’ve been on there looking for you,” Ethan said. He eased back a step, but kept his eyes on the gun. “You used to chat with a friend of mine.”
“Who?” Robbie demanded.
Ethan realized he didn’t know Sophie’s screen name, so he took a stab in the dark. “Necromancer.”
The gun lowered a little more. “Yeah. We had a lot of good talks. Course, she never delivered the goods I wanted. I had to get them on my own.” He waved a hand at the other guns propped against the wall.
“She tried to meet you at the carnival,” Ethan said. Staying calm had never been so hard. He was sweating gallons, and his shirt clung to him. The back of his neck itched as perspiration trickled down it.
“I sent my mom instead,” Robbie said. “I told her to pick up a package for me. Thought maybe Necromancer might be a cop.”
Ethan’s laugh was unsteady. “No, not a cop. Just a real necromancer.” Just like him. If Sophie was right, and necromancers had abilities, then Ethan had access to weapons more powerful than the rifles. But if Phil was right, and Ethan had to collect souls in order to access his abilities, then he was powerless.
“You lied to me!” Denise shouted at her son. “You never told me about a gun. You said that person at the carnival was bringing me pain medication.”
Robbie snorted. “I said a package, Ma. You’re the one that heard drugs.”
“How long has this been going on?” She waved her hand at the propaganda on the wall. “I never taught you to hate like this.”
“You’re just like everyone else. A sheep,” Robbie shot back. He glanced at the window. “And sheep deserve to be slaughtered.”
Ethan gasped as it all fell into place. Denise hadn’t been planning the December massacre; her
son had. At least Ethan knew whom he had to stop.
“The big question is what to do with you,” Robbie told Ethan.
Denise kept her post at the window, looking down at the crowd across the street while at the same time keeping her eye on Robbie. “Tie him up,” she said.
“Tie him up?” Robbie asked, amazed. “I say we shut him up permanently.” Once again, the gun was against Ethan’s chest.
Instead of giving in to his fear, Ethan tried to use it to strengthen himself. Slowly, like a light drawing power from a battery, he felt himself fueling up, cell by cell. The force was weak, but it was there. As his internal energy slowly charged, his supernatural senses heightened. The living bodies in the building were like pinpricks of light. More than one person had died in this building, and their souls were still wandering around. Now, if he could bring them to his aid…
“Help me!” Ethan desperately called to the spirits. To his surprise, he felt a rustle of energy, like a light breeze ruffling tall grass. Someone was coming to help!
An invisible force tugged on Robbie’s gun, turning the barrel aside. Robbie’s eyes widened. “Do you feel that?” He fought to gain control of it. “What is this shit?”
The gun was no longer pointed at Ethan, but he still needed backup. C’mon, Christian, Ethan begged. Get down here!
Something struck him on the back of the head, and his legs buckled underneath him. He dropped to the floor like a lead weight. Denise, holding a rifle, towered over him. “Don’t you touch my boy.”
“You can’t let him shoot those people!” Ethan cried. “You have to stop him!”
Denise’s face was cold. “You don’t know anything about me or what I have to do.” When Ethan tried to stand, she hit him again, this time in the face. He fell back onto the floor with a groan. Stars swirled before his eyes, and blood trickled from his forehead. When Denise joined her son at the window, Ethan crawled across the carpet. He had to stop this. Or die trying.
Christian burst into the room, gun in hand. “Drop your weapons!” he ordered.
Denise lowered her gun, but Robbie, now in control of his weapon, aimed at Ethan and pushed the bolt forward and down. “How about you drop your weapon.”
Ethan’s head ached, but his thoughts were crystal clear. He had to make his move now, or this night would end with fourteen deaths instead of twelve. The spirit that had helped him before had vanished, taking its power with it. Where the hell had it gone? “I need you!” Ethan desperately shouted to it. “Come back!” All he needed was one helpful spirit to tip the scales. Just one.
All at once, he was rewarded with two.
A pair of familiar presences swirled into the room. Apart, they were weak, but together, they formed a forceful confluence. Their twin energies gave Ethan the strength to stand, and then to raise his arms over his head. The two streams wrapped around his body, fueling his inner fire. Lightning crackled on the surface of his skin. Still, he drank in more, powering up further and further.
Christian kept his gun sited on Denise. “Give up,” he told Robbie. “You can’t win this standoff.”
“Go ahead and shoot her,” Robbie sneered. “I don’t need her anymore.”
Without warning, Christian shoved Denise to the floor and went for Robbie. Robbie pulled back the trigger of the rifle. Ethan shouted a warning, but it was too late. The gun fired.
The energy that had been building in Ethan’s body suddenly released. As if watching a video in slow motion, Ethan saw himself leap across the room. Supernatural speed lent wings to his feet. He twisted in mid-air, coming between Christian and destruction. There was a moment of surprise, as Ethan felt himself fly into the air, then the impact of the bullet sent him off course.
The pain came immediately, hot and hard, just under his ribs. He couldn’t move without agony. Blood soaked his shirt.
Death hovered nearby. Only it wasn’t Ethan who held Death’s attention. It was Denise. Complete your task, Death ordered.
Christian charged at Robbie. “I’m going to kill you!” he shouted. Death, however, had other plans. It picked Christian up and flung him across the room where he landed in a heap.
Finish this, Death commanded Denise.
Robbie was still armed. He turned his sights on Denise, but she was quicker. She raised her gun and pointed it between his eyes.
Robbie laughed. “Go ahead, Mom. If you dare.”
She pulled the trigger. The explosion was deafening. Robbie staggered backwards, half of his face missing.
Christian jumped to his feet and scrambled for his own weapon, ready to take Denise down as well, but to she dropped her gun and put her hands up. “I did it,” she said. “I killed my son.” Tears streamed from her eyes. “Now where’s my prize?”
In reply, the shadow of Death enveloped her, swirling around her body like a swarm of insects and picking her up off the ground. You have earned your gift, Death said. Now you are me, and I am free.
“Wait! What do you mean?!” Denise’s voice rose from the depths of the darkness.
You have passed the test. You are ready to become Death.
“You said eternal life!” she hollered.
You have proved yourself worthy, so I am passing the ferryman’s oar to you. You will live this existence until you find your own replacement.
“That’s what this was all about?” Christian demanded. “You were grooming her to take over your job?”
I have known since she saw me as a child, Death responded. She only needed to prove herself.
Ethan’s blood leaked from his wound, and he could feel his spirit straining against his body, ready to cross over to the other side. As he lay in-between worlds, he was gifted with a sudden clarity. He might have received Denise’s fate if he’d continued collecting souls like the shadow had demanded. “You asked her to kill her own son,” he murmured.
The shadow shuddered then split into two. One half remained in place while the other spiraled towards the open window. Within the blink of an eye, it became one with the night sky. A sigh like a breath from a resuscitated corpse followed it.
It wasn’t the number, but the manner of taking the souls that made a difference. To Ethan’s surprise, it was Denise who addressed him. Her voice was stronger than before. More commanding. As if she’d already taken over her role as the shadow of Death. The other souls were already on the threshold of the afterlife. Collecting them was a trifle. This was different.
“You murdered your own son,” Ethan said.
And by murdering him, I saved a dozen more.
Ethan’s eyes traveled unwillingly to the dead man on the floor. He’d been right. Denise had never meant to kill twelve people. That had been her son’s agenda. He was the one who would have been responsible for the December massacre. She was there to prevent it. And prevent it she had.
“Ethan!” Christian knelt by his side. “Hang on, man. Help’s coming!” He tore off his shirt and held it against Ethan’s gaping wound.
Ethan knew it was too late when he saw David and Sophie floating behind the Angel. They were the ones who had answered Ethan’s cry for help. Their combined powers had worked together to save Christian.
“David,” Ethan whispered. As the world around him grayed out, he reached for David’s hand.
It’s not your time, Death said, coming in-between them.
“I don’t care,” Ethan said. Seeing David was too hard. He’d follow him anywhere. Even beyond the grave. “I want to cross over.”
“Don’t!” David said. He wore a look of deep sorrow. “I can’t let you throw your life away.”
“I can’t live without you,” Ethan said.
“You can,” David insisted. “I love you too much to let you cross over now.”
“I love you, too,” Ethan said.
David and Sophie were already fading away. Ethan cried out as he reached for them.
“No!” He looked up at the Shadow. “Take me instead of him!”
It doesn’t work t
hat way.
“I need him!” Then Ethan had a thought. “You were worried about Mikey, right? How about I make you a promise.” The old Death enjoyed making deals. Ethan prayed Denise was the same way. “ I swear to look after your son if you bring David and Sophie back.”
Death froze. Mikey…
“That’s right,” Ethan said. “I’ll take care of him. Please,” he added when he felt Death weakening.
There was a long pause. So long that Ethan worried he’d bleed out before Death made up its mind. Finally, the Shadow uttered a sigh. One life only. Either David or Sophie, not both.
Ethan didn’t have to consider it. “David,” he said immediately.
It will be done.
Pain brought Ethan back to his senses. Christian had put his jacket under Ethan’s head. “It’s going to be okay,” he told him. “They’re going to make you better.” Sirens wailed as emergency vehicles pulled into the apartment complex’s parking lot. Someone had called 9-1-1. Ethan watched Sophie glance longingly at Christian as she faded. Then everything went dark.
Chapter Thirty-five
Ethan had been right before when he’d compared the fancy hospital bed at David’s house to a car. It was, quite honestly, the most comfortable thing he’d ever slept in. Christian and David had moved the bed into the living room so that Ethan could watch TV while he recuperated. Only now, two weeks after surgery, he was bored out of his mind.
He wanted to dive back into Sophie’s files from the flash drive, but David had hidden his laptop, telling him that he was too death obsessed. He didn’t understand Ethan’s new compulsion to research necromancy. And Ethan hadn’t yet told him what he was planning, or why he needed those files.
Ethan tilted his head all the way back and looked at the ceiling. He wanted to shout for David to come keep him company, but David had taken Mike to his weekly therapy appointment. This was part of the agreement he and Ethan had signed when they’d been granted temporary custody of Denise’s son. Fortunately, David’s brother-in-law Grant had a far reach and deep pockets, and because of him, the custody agreement was settled very quickly. Until they found Mike’s father, Ethan and David would look after Mike.
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