In 27 Days

by Alison Gervais

  “Well, then,” I said, my voice shaking. “Maybe you should take that up with Death. Or maybe you could, you know, leave.”

  The man laughed, loud and jovial. I looked toward the kitchen, desperately hoping that Archer was there, that he had overheard part of the conversation and would come to investigate. This guy wouldn’t try to pick a fight with me if Archer was there, would he?

  “Now why would I do that?” he said. “I haven’t even gotten to the reason why I came for a visit. In fact, I haven’t even introduced myself.”

  “Then say what you need to say and get out of here.”

  “Oh, my. You’re not very nice, Hadley. Somebody should teach you some manners.” The man rose to his feet, and I took an immediate step back when I saw how he towered over me at an alarming height. “First of all, my name is Havoc. And fortunately for you, I’m willing to overlook your rudeness because I’m here to help you.”

  “Well, f-forgive me if I don’t believe you,” I stammered out.

  “Of course you don’t.” Havoc made a pitying click with his tongue, shaking his head. “You’ve got it all wrong. What you’re doing. It isn’t right.”

  Somehow, he knew about Archer. “I’m not doing anything—”

  “Don’t play stupid with me.” Havoc’s voice had changed abruptly, becoming deeper and much harsher. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  I swallowed hard, another shiver of fear washing over me. “And if I do?”

  “Listen to me very closely, Hadley.” The man moved closer, and my back hit the mantel of the fireplace as I tried to move away.

  “I’ve been watching you from the very beginning, you see. Your every move. Figuring out what really makes you tick. It’s my job.”

  “Why? Why are you doing this?” I demanded.

  “It’s simple, really. I need you to leave Archer Morales alone,” Havoc said curtly. “I need you to let him end his life.”

  I swore my heart stopped beating. “What?”

  “You heard me.” Havoc gripped the mantel on either side of me, leaning closer. “You’re playing a dangerous game, Hadley. You’re messing with things that aren’t supposed to be meddled with. Changing a person’s fate, preventing them from dying . . . that’s very serious business. Not something a mere human should ever concern themselves with.”

  “Archer didn’t just die,” I forced out with a sudden rush of bravado. “He killed himself.”

  “That’s exactly my point,” Havoc said smoothly.

  It felt like my throat was closing up, making it difficult to breathe. I couldn’t speak.

  “You can’t mess with time like this,” Havoc continued, lowering his voice. “There is an order to the universe, and therefore there are consequences for every action you take. There are consequences for every second Archer Morales spends alive when he should be dead. And these consequences aren’t something I’m so sure you’re prepared to deal with.”

  I wanted to shout and scream at the top of my lungs at this man, tell him that there was absolutely no reason whatsoever that a person should ever feel like they had to end their life, but I couldn’t muster up the strength to say anything.

  “People kill themselves,” Havoc said bluntly. “That’s the way it’s been since the beginning of time, and that’s the way it’s always going to be.”

  “Not here,” I managed to say with a choked breath. “Not now. Not ever. People . . . people matter. Archer matters. You can’t make me believe that’s not true.”

  Havoc looked down at me for a moment, his head tilted to the side, and then he started to laugh. He laughed and laughed, and it seemed like he was never going to stop.

  “Hadley, have you finished up out there yet?”

  A sob leapt up my throat at the sound of Archer’s voice shouting from the kitchen, but Havoc clapped a hand over my mouth before I got the chance to form any words.

  “Yeah, just give me a few minutes,” he called out in a voice that was disturbingly similar to my own. “I’m almost done.”

  Havoc kept his hand over my mouth as he leaned closer, his nose almost skimming across my cheek as he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Think of me as a debt collector, Hadley,” Havoc said. “Every death is a debt that needs to be paid to restore the balance you’ve disrupted. And I really don’t think you want to be the payment for Archer’s debt, now do you?”

  Then he was gone.

  The fire poker slipped from my grasp and landed on the floor with a loud clatter. I managed to make it to the couch before my legs gave out. I was trembling from head to toe, and there were tears painfully burning my eyes, but they wouldn’t fall.

  If this man—Havoc—was telling the truth, then I could be endangering Archer just as much as I was trying to help him. I’d seen enough sci-fi movies to know that there were always drawbacks to people messing with time. The thought had crossed my mind when I’d first met Death, when I signed the contract, but I’d been too fixated on saving Archer to worry about what changing the past would mean. Now it seemed like there would be an immense price to pay.

  What had I done to Archer? To his entire family? To myself?

  I heard loud footsteps, and then Archer’s voice was saying, “Hadley, is everything okay? I heard something drop, I thought— Wait. What are you doing?”

  I lifted my head from my hands and saw Archer crouched down in front of me, a look in his eyes I hadn’t ever seen before.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, rubbing at my cheeks. “I just stopped to take a break. I’ll be finished in a few minutes.”

  I got to my feet, brushing past Archer to grab a mop from the kitchen as I’d originally intended. Archer got the picture that I wasn’t up for sharing what was really on my mind, and I was glad, for once, he was giving me space.

  CHAPTER 20

  Late-Night Quandaries—10 Days Until

  I hadn’t been able to sleep after my confrontation with Havoc. I was afraid to close my eyes, worried that I would see his unsettling smirk sketched on the back of my eyelids. It was fortunate that I wasn’t scheduled to work the Saturday following Black Friday, because I was afraid I would’ve wound up fallen asleep while taking orders or trying to make a latte.

  After a night of staring up at the ceiling, trying to think of anything but my encounter with Havoc, Archer, and how I only had a little over a week before my deal was up, and massaging the numbers etched onto the skin of my wrist, I rolled out of bed and journeyed to the kitchen. It was just after seven in the morning, and the sun was steadily rising over the tops of the buildings, throwing a pinkish light off windows up and down the street just outside.

  I was making a pot of coffee when I heard the front door opening and noise coming from the living room.

  “Hadley, is that you?”

  My mom appeared in the kitchen doorway then, followed by my dad. They looked exhausted and travel worn, but they both smiled when they saw me.

  “Mom! Dad!”

  It was a little out of character for me to throw my arms around both of them, but I was happy to see them. After so much time with the Incitti family, I was sort of desperate to fix my own.

  “What are you doing up so early?” my mom asked as she shrugged out of her coat and draped it across the back of a dining room chair. “Do you work today?”

  She said this so easily that I figured she must have had time to process the whole my-daughter-has-a-job situation while away on her business trip, and had finally come to terms with it.

  I shook my head. “No. Just couldn’t sleep, that’s all.”

  “Well, I’ll take some of that coffee,” my dad said, grabbing a mug out of the cupboard. “I swear I’m done taking red-eyes.”

  I pulled some eggs out of the fridge and set about scrambling them while my mom lent a hand grabbing some bacon from the freezer to fry. We had thrown together a simple little breakfast in a few minutes, which we then carted to the dining table.

  “How was your trip?” I asked as I dug into
my eggs.

  “Dreadful.” My mother exhaled deeply as she sipped at her coffee. “I’ve always said Clinton needs to be careful when doing cold calls to potential clients. He picked a real winner this time.”

  I didn’t totally understand what my parents were talking about as they described the events of their trip, but they were hopeful the case would have a positive outcome and would be wrapped up soon.

  “How was your Thanksgiving?” my mom asked.

  “It was nice,” I answered, trying to keep my story simple. “I was happy that they invited me. Archer said they’d all be upset if I didn’t come to every holiday dinner from now on.”

  My dad smiled as he polished off the rest of his bacon. “They sound like good people.”

  “They really are.”

  And that was what was going to make this so difficult, if Havoc decided to make good on his promise to intervene. I wanted more than anything to save Archer, but not at the expense of anyone else.

  In a move uncharacteristic of my parents, they retired to their bedroom to clean up and relax for a while. It was Saturday, so their offices were closed, but usually they were out and about running errands or meeting with clients. I couldn’t remember the last time they actually spent a Saturday at home.

  I cleaned up the breakfast dishes, grabbed my homework from the bedroom, and brought it back to the living room. I dropped everything onto the coffee table and settled down on the couch, reaching for the TV remote. I needed to do something to keep my mind occupied, and by occupied I meant not dwelling on what Havoc may or may not do. Or worrying about Archer too incessantly. There was still that part of my brain that was constantly nagging at me to check in Archer, maybe send him a text or two, but he was hardly a talkative person via cell phone. The few times we had texted, he was very monosyllabic.

  I was still on the couch, slugging my way through a worksheet on parliamentary procedure, when my parents emerged from their room, looking much better after a few hours of rest.

  “Have you moved at all?” my mom asked from the kitchen as she poured herself a cold cup of coffee.

  “Not really,” I answered. “Well, actually, I made a few waffles around lunchtime.”

  My dad laughed, sitting down on the couch beside me. “You and your waffles.”

  I was kind of pleased he was teasing me about my obsession. It meant he’d noticed.

  “Why don’t you call Taylor or one of the girls?” my mom asked, seating herself in the recliner by the windows. “You know, celebrate the last of Thanksgiving break.”

  “Yeah, maybe,” I said.

  The funny thing was, I didn’t really want to leave the apartment. Yeah, part of that was because I was still a little freaked out by yesterday’s events, but most of it was because I hadn’t had quality time with my parents in forever. And since I now was tangled up in some scary Tilt-a-Whirl with Death, Havoc, and Archer, I thought it might be a good idea to hang with my parents. I might not get the chance again.

  I spent the rest of the day lounging around the apartment with my mom and dad, which was an unnatural occurrence with more than a bit of awkwardness, but at the same time, it was really nice. We ordered some Chinese takeout for dinner from a place a few blocks over, and after watching a marathon of old sitcoms, they decided to head to bed early.

  I was exhausted from a night without sleep, but even then I wasn’t sure I was ready to close my eyes. My parents were only a few feet down the hallway in their own bedroom, and it was reassuring to know they were so close, that I wasn’t alone. However, it still didn’t erase the fear that Havoc would somehow worm his way through the locked door into my room.

  I couldn’t stand the sight of my ceiling any longer after lying in bed, wide awake, until one thirty in the morning. I abandoned my bedroom for the kitchen and rummaged quietly through the cupboards, looking for some teabags to make myself a cup of tea. I paused on my way to fill a mug from the water cooler, catching sight of a dark shape in the dining room out of the corner of my eye. I waited anxiously for the shape to move, make a noise or something, but I failed to see any movement.

  Maybe it was because I’d already had a run-in with some obviously supernatural being with a burning vendetta against me, or maybe insomnia had made me bold, but I immediately marched over to the light switch without sparing my safety a second thought. If it was Havoc again, I wanted to see his face rather than worry about him skulking in the shadows.

  When my eyes adjusted to the light, I was shocked but ultimately relieved to find that Death was seated at the dining room table. His hands were clasped before him, and he smiled pleasantly as I stared at him. My breathing slowly began returning to normal.

  “Well, good morning, Hadley.”

  “How long have you been sitting there?”

  “Oh, not long.”

  “Because that’s not creepy whatsoever.” I shuddered. Even though Death was better than Havoc, I didn’t exactly like the idea of him spying on me.

  Death shrugged.

  “You could’ve said something, you know,” I spat, pulling out the chair across the table from him and taking a seat.

  “I don’t believe I’m the one with all the questions,” Death said.

  My eyes narrowed as I examined Death. He didn’t look quite as unsettling as he had the first night I met him, or at the church. He was still unnaturally pale, with that skeletal appearance, and smiling still didn’t really suit him, but something was different this time. Probably because Havoc had replaced Death as the most frightening thing I’d ever seen.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Death, curling my fingers around the empty mug. “I didn’t ask you to come.”

  Death pursed his lips, looking uncomfortable as he drummed his fingers on the tabletop. “I will admit that this is unusual on my part.”

  “What, randomly showing up at people’s apartments in the middle of the night and sitting in the dark?”

  “No, that I do quite frequently, actually.”

  I slumped backward in the chair, releasing a sigh. “Are you trying to be funny?”

  “Not at all.”

  From what I’d seen, Death didn’t just show up out of the blue. Well, apart from when he was offering people contracts or confronting people in churches. But he definitely didn’t appear whenever I had questions or needed help. He had to be here for a reason, but he was skirting around the issue. And I knew as well as he did that issue was Havoc.

  “Did you know he’d show up?” I asked as I looked at Death, jumping right to the point.

  Death understood what I was asking without having to explain myself further. “I always hope he won’t be a problem, but . . . yes. To be fair, though, I did warn you.”

  “Oh, right,” I said with a snort. “Like telling me there are things that may not be happy with you disturbing the natural order is a good enough warning. That’s about the least specific thing you could have said.”

  “It was true. I can assure you, Havoc certainly isn’t happy you’re trying to change things,” Death said.

  “Yeah, I figured that much out for myself, thank you,” I snapped. “So is everything he said true? Is he some kind of debt collector that’s going to kill me if Archer doesn’t die like he’s supposed to? One of those life-for-a-life kind of things? Because that’s what is sounded like to me, and I’m not going to lie, I’m pretty freaked out.”

  Death looked momentarily uncomfortable. “Sounds about right, yeah.”

  “Then what are you doing here? Just going to tell me you can’t help me again?”

  “Not this time.” Death shook his head, still tapping away on the tabletop with his fingers.

  I was taken aback by this. “Sorry?”

  He brushed this aside with a wave of his hand, and said, “I just want to talk.”

  “The last time you said that, you offered me a contract. I really, really don’t want to be signing away on the dotted line again.”

  Death leaned forward, propping
his elbows up on the table, a very serious look in his eyes. It was unsettling to see his face missing his trademark smirk. “Havoc is . . . complicated. He thrives on the misfortune and pain of others, and he’ll do anything he can to make sure that keeps on rolling. The way of the world, I think he’s called it before. Just his name alone instills chaos, and he’s willing to upend the world and cause all kinds of turmoil so the darkness that exists in this world doesn’t disappear. He wants to keep that balance. So good never has a fighting chance.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me this sooner?” I hissed, feeling sick to my stomach at this new piece of information. Throwing out things like darkness and good versus evil was far beyond my understanding. It sounded too Hollywood to be real, but ever since this started, the impossible was starting to become the norm for me.

  “I didn’t want to bring Havoc to your attention, of course,” Death said, like this should’ve been obvious. “Thought it might scare you off. But now that he’s introduced himself . . .”

  “Everything’s messed up,” I finished for him.

  “But you knew it would be from the beginning.”

  “Yeah, but that doesn’t make it any easier.”

  “Is anything in life ever easy?”

  I gave a disgusted groan and slumped forward in my chair, resting my forehead on the table. I wanted to be done with this. I was suddenly very, very tired, and nothing sounded more appealing than my bed. Definitely not staying up, listening to Death speak in riddles and rhymes.

  “Anything else you want to share with the class?” I asked miserably. “Maybe a helpful hint or two about how to deal with this guy?”

  As Death began to speak, there was something in the tone of his voice that made me sit up. Caution. Maybe a little guilt.

  “There are things about the world you don’t understand, Hadley. Bad things happen out there, but bad things happen in here too,” he said, tapping a finger to his forehead.

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I demanded.