Chapter Two
I barely made it back to my room before my energy completely ran out. It would take a little while to stagger to my bed; at least here I didn’t have to act like I was okay. All I needed now was to rest, and to hope that when I woke this nightmare would be just that, a nightmare. Otherwise, what were we going to have to do next? Certainly we couldn't fight back when we had no idea of how to really stop the Angel of Death, or if we even could stop him.
It seemed that everywhere we looked the Angel of Death was there and he was beating us to charges, almost like he had gotten the information before we did, but that was impossible as we were connected to our charges, making it so we instinctively knew when they were in danger. The whole process was difficult to explain to someone who hadn’t felt it before. As far as I knew, the Angel of Death wasn't the same way.
Upon birth each person was assigned to a Resurrector, though we never actually received a list or anything of the number of charges we had. It was like once the person was assigned to us they were on our radar, and when they were in serious danger we were alerted. The only exception to that was if another Resurrector was in the area, like what had happened during my first heal.
I sighed as I collapsed on my bed. The downy mattress enveloped me and the softness of it made me feel like nothing else mattered. Rest, I told myself. I could worry about what was going on with the Resurrectors and the Angel of Death later. The only thing that mattered right now was getting back my strength. I wasn't going to go to the Leaders about the exhaustion I felt simply because I didn't want to be treated differently, and I knew they would take me off duty for a couple days to rest up. That was not something I had in mind; I needed to be out in the field.
So I would just rest here and everything would be fine when I woke up.
Right, everything would be fine. Or so I told myself.
Project Death: Resurrection Page 5