Almost Dead (Dead, #1)

by Rogers, Rebecca A.

  I sit up, slowly. “You’re not serious…”

  Simultaneously raising an eyebrow and cocking her head to one side, Laney responds with, “Of course I’m serious. It’s the simplest solution, and we don’t have a lot of time. So, let’s do this.” She gestures for me to follow.

  Rising to my feet is like having a ball and chain wrapped around my waist, only pulling me back down. Even my spirit form is responding like my physical body should. Twice I attempt to get up, and twice I collapse. Laney helps me stand, and I use what little energy remains to lean against the vehicle’s rear bumper.

  Laney sticks her head in the back.

  “What are you looking for?”

  “One of those things that lifts a car when you have to change a tire.”

  “A car jack?”

  Laney shrugs. “I don’t care about the name. I care about getting it out of his vehicle so we can use it as a head start.”

  “I’m surprised you know what it’s for.”

  Her eyes pin me with a fierce glare. “Chase blew a tire last time I was with him, and he had to use this thing. Here it is.” She pulls it out from under a bunch of other crap.

  Laney squeezes her eyes closed and yanks the jack through the rear of the SUV. Puffing out a relieved sigh, she places the lift underneath the trim, near the back tire. Pumping the lever, the vehicle slowly begins to rise off the ground.

  “Okay, that should be enough. I’ll go to the front and attempt to raise that end. Ready?”

  “No, but this is our final option, so I don’t have a choice.”

  Taking her position at the front, Laney says, “On the count of three. Three…two…one…”

  “That’s a countdown to one, not on the count of three. Try again.”

  “Oh. Oops. Okay, here we go. One…two…three…”

  Concurrently, we hone in on our energy. Mine is supplied to my hands, where the majority of force goes. I’m confident Laney does the same. We manage to tilt Chase’s SUV a few inches, but gravity wins out. The vehicle falls into place once again—this time without the car jack. Chase just about breaks his neck gawking at his SUV, then runs over to check it out, eyeing the sides and interior of the vehicle.

  “Damn it,” I murmur, resting my head against the rear window. “We have to hurry, Laney.”

  “I’m trying!” she screeches, placing the jack in the same spot as before and pumping vigorously.

  Chase notices.

  “Ah, shit. Laney, you have to hurry! He can see you.”

  “There. Got it.”

  Chase’s eyes widen in disbelief. He fumbles for his keys, drops them, then scrambles to pick them up.

  “Hurry!” I scream.

  Using the little bit that’s left, I center my energy on flipping this stupid vehicle over the edge of Death’s Cliff. This might be our only shot, especially if Chase continues to ride around town, searching for her. The SUV momentarily appears weightless, then falls onto its side. Throwing his hands up into the air, Chase paces nearby and pulls out his cell phone.

  We press our hands against the frame and begin pushing. The SUV teeters on the border for a split second, then Laney gives it one last shove, propelling it over the edge. Arms flailing, Chase makes a feeble attempt at stopping his SUV. Of course, unless he’s secretly Superman, he can’t stop it.

  Side by side, Laney and I stand at the precipice, staring into the dark abyss below. We did it. We actually accomplished our mission in the Shadowlands.

  Laney nudges me and nods toward Chase. The poor guy strides back and forth along the boundary. Good. That means people will go down there to pull his vehicle out, which means they’ll see my car, and me. Soon, this will all be over. Laney and I will wake up to the florescent lighting from our hospital beds, our families by our sides.

  Am I…smiling? This might be the first time I’ve been able to experience anything other sadness and frustration since the crash.

  “Oh, no.” Laney’s excitement has all but diminished, her expression now grave. “They’ll see you, but they won’t see me. What if they don’t know I’m on the other side?”

  “They’ll find you,” I reassure her. “Chase won’t give up.”

  She nods and licks her lips. “Yeah, you’re right. He won’t stop looking for me.” She smiles, but it’s weak and forced. So many questions are lurking behind her eyes.

  But I don’t have a chance to ask a single one. My legs fail me. What small amount of luminosity there was before has all but disappeared. Now, the former gray world of thay t>

  e car,r">

  e car,r">

  e car,r">

  chapter seventeen • laney

  Do I need to write a eulogy? I mean, one minute Flora Mackey is here, and the next she’s not responding. Is she dead? I don’t know. It’s not like we have a pulse in the Shadowlands. We’re freaking ghosts, for God’s sake.

  “Flora!” I shriek, sprinting over to her motionless figure. Gently pressing on her arm doesn’t trigger a response. Shouting her name doesn’t, either. I don’t know what to do. It’s not like I can perform CPR on a ghost… “Flora! Can you hear me?”

  No response.

  Ugh. This isn’t good.

  Chase continues to stare up and down the road, like he’s waiting for someone. Probably the cops. I mean, who else is he going to call after he witnesses his vehicle rolling into the gorge on its own? Ghostbusters? At least I now know what happens in the afterlife, that it exists and isn’t a figment of people’s imaginations. The idea of ghosts won’t scare me anymore.

  Distantly, lights flicker, capturing my attention. The nearer they become, the bigger my smile grows. Not to sound silly but they’re like hope on wheels. Maybe even a little bit of relief, too, because the end is in sight. My life will once again return to normal. Chase will hold me in his arms, Mia will stop drinking for five minutes, and my parents will catch the next flight home. Everything will be perfect.

  And then the idea of flawlessness crumbles. There are only police cars pulling over. No ambulances. No fire trucks. No rescue squad. How long before the others show up? Will they show up? I mean, it’s a team effort to get a car out of a gorge, right?

  By the time they haul her car and body out of here, I may be in the same position she’s in now. And, as far as I know, there’s not a way for me to notify law enforcement or anyone else, unless I roll another vehicle over the opposite side.

  Oh, this is all wrong.

  In my state of mind, I can’t think of what to say or do, especially without the help of Flora. With quick strides toward Chase, I begin shouting. Will it work? Probably not, but it’s worth a chance.

  “Chase, if you can hear me, I’m on the other side! Please don’t give up on me. You’re in the right spot. Keep looking!”

  There. That’s all I can do for now, except wish that my words will leak into his subconscious.

  I stand on the sidelines as the pay t>ow, excolicemen speak with Chase. Even though I can’t hear what they say, it’s obvious what they’re talking about. And Chase being Chase, he won’t have a clue how to explain his vehicle rocking back and forth, then tumbling off the edge. The cops probably imagine he’s on some sort of medication, or drugs. I don’t blame them; I’d think the same in those circumstances. Poor Chase.

  Seconds turn into minutes, and minutes turn into…more minutes. Honestly, I don’t know how long this is taking, but I’m tired of waiting. All of the cops are hanging out around the squad cars like they’re expecting Chase’s SUV will magically climb up the side of the cliff and perform a tap dance.

  More vehicles arrive. The sides of their cars and trucks say, Briarhaven Fire & Rescue Squad. Oh, my God. Finally! Reversing one of the trucks and parking it at the cliff’s edge, a rescue worker uses a system of ropes, pulleys, and harnesses to rappel down the side of the chasm, into the dark forest below. This would be a perfect instance where I could listen to what they’re saying over hand-held walkie-talkies. But no…the Shadowlands doesn’
t work that way.

  About ten minutes later, the rescue worker emerges from underneath the foliage, shaking his head and pointing to a spot where Chase’s SUV didn’t land, as he speaks into his walkie-talkie. Oh, wow. This might be it. He may have seen Flora’s car, and Flora’s body. My plan worked! I’m a freaking genius.

  Another worker gathers his equipment and descends the rock face. My view from where I stand is limited, to say the least, but I’m happy to have a view at all. From what I can see, though, the two men have reached the bottom of the gorge and are on their way to Flora’s car, which is hidden under a canopy of trees.

  I examine Flora’s unresponsive spirit form lying on the pavement. If she’s dead, doesn’t that mean she’s stuck in the afterlife? Didn’t Sara mention something about how, if we don’t get a reaction from our families in time, we’re basically doomed? Oh, my God. What if Flora’s a goner?

  The two rescue workers return to the main area where the cops, and everyone else, are stationed. I’m sure they’re rehashing whatever they experienced down below, which sucks, since I can’t hear any of it. Chase remains glued beside the police cars. He hasn’t moved much at all since law enforcement arrived.

  It takes some time before one final missing piece to this messed-up puzzle pulls in—a crane. Police officers work to clear the road both ways and block any oncoming traffic from slipping through. I bet they’re detouring, as well. God, what a mess we’ve made. Too bad Flora’s missing all the good stuff.

  I check on her comatose spirit form, but she doesn’t budge. The girl is out of it. I don’t think she’s truly dead; she would’ve awoken by now, given that she’d be stuck in the afterlife. Or Sara would’ve picked her up and taken her to Lichburn.

  ven size="+0">An ambulance appears on scene, with lights flashing (and I’m sure sirens blare, too). The policemen and rescue squad are ready and waiting for their acquaintances. And they aren’t wasting any time, either.

  The same rescue guys who rappelled down the cliffside earlier are at it again, but only one of them helps guide the crane hook into the abyss. They’re also joined by two EMTs. Standing at the rim, I peer down, studying their every move. As soon as their feet hit the ground, they unclip the ropes from their harnesses and run over to Flora’s car. One EMT steps out from underneath the tree cover and motions to another paramedic standing up top. They bind a spine board to lower.

  Now, if they can only do the same for me… Too bad there’s a crane blocking the other chunk of guardrail that’s missing. Ugh.

  A groan comes from Flora’s direction. I glance at her. She seems to be waking up from whatever coma she was temporarily in.

  “You’re missing all the action,” I say. “They’re about to recover your body, car, and Chase’s vehicle.”

  She groans again. “What happened?”

  “To you? You, like, passed out or something. I don’t know. I thought you were dead for a minute there”—the idea that she might be strikes me again—“or maybe you are…”

  She lies flat, extending her arms and legs, stretching. “I can’t be dead. I’m still in the Shadowlands.”

  “Yeah, but didn’t Sara say that if we die, we’re stuck? What if you’re trapped and can’t get out?”

  I swear her eyes roll a complete three-sixty before returning to normal. She can probably see her brain when she does that.

  “I’m not dead,” she snaps.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I just do,” she says, slowly progressing upward to stand on her feet. “I can sense that my body and spirit are still attached to each other.”

  Half of my face scrunches up in skepticism. “Mmm. I don’t know. That sounds sketchy.”

  Ignoring me, Flora asks, “Have they pulled up my body yet?”

  “No, not yet. And they still don’t know about mine.”

  She gives me a sidelong look. “Think they’ll find out?”

  “God, I hope so.”

  She opens her mouth to speak, but instead, her eyebrows crumple together as she stares past me. I twist around, searching for the sourcefor"jus that has her complete attention. It’s Chase. He’s wandering to the other side. He’s…wandering…

  He’s wandering to the other side, you idiot!

  Oh, my God. What do I do? I don’t have long before I’ll end up like Flora—so lifeless—but there may still be enough time for me to throw a rock at Chase’s head, or cause a police cruiser to flip over on its side. Okay, maybe not that extreme.

  Walking up to him, I say, “Chase, baby, I know you can’t hear me, but on some seriously-weird level, I hope that you do. I just wanted to tell you that I’m here. I’m standing next to you, and I want to come home. Please, please, please find me. Just…look over the side.” Obviously, he can’t hear a word I tell him, but it makes me feel better. Chase continues to scan the horizon beyond this side of Death’s Cliff, where my body rests. “Look down, Chase,” I urge. “Please look down.”

  But he doesn’t. Instead, he turns in the opposite direction and begins meandering toward the commotion. A makeshift apparatus steadily pulls Flora’s body upward, inch by inch, until she’s placed on a secure gurney and wheeled into the back of an ambulance. Is it weird seeing her bent and broken when she’s standing only feet away? Uh, yeah.

  Chase knows who Flora is; he’s seen her with Mia. It’s not like our lives never crossed paths prior to the accident. We saw each other on an almost-regular basis.

  Flora covers her mouth with both hands, and her eyes are the size of a planet. I can’t say I blame her, though. I’ll probably react similarly, when they pull my body from the wreckage. Which might be soon, if Chase will hurry up and take a hint from the afterlife.

  He backtracks after observing Flora’s immobile shape, and his eyes rapidly dart back and forth, like his mind is working some serious overtime. Frowning, he inspects the tread marks on the pavement, and the missing guardrail.

  “Yes, yes, yes!” I squeal. “You’re headed in the right direction. Go, baby, go!”

  And he does, because the moment he peers over the other edge of Death’s Cliff is the moment my heart stops beating (metaphorically speaking, of course). His head moves with the route his eyes follow, and the second his head stops progressing, I know he sees my car. Rotating his upper torso toward the police and rescue workers, he opens his mouth, yelling, “Over here!” (I can totally read his lips.) Frantically gesturing for help, he points toward the base of the chasm. Two police officers and one rescue-squad member jog toward the cliffside, then peer over the rim. Chase doesn’t hesitate to rehash the evidence he’s found with one of the cops: tire marks and a missing chunk of railing, which both became hidden once the massive crane arrived.

  It’s enough to send the rescue crews into a frenzy. The same devices used to haul Flora up the side of the cliff are retracted into a truck, and the truck is reversed to the other toand tside, where it’s now my turn to be rescued.

  Flora isn’t even paying attention to the fact that they found my body; she’s too busy gazing at hers in the back of the ambulance. Well, that, and she seems to be infatuated with the crane pulling her car out of the forest beneath us. She just can’t decide which is more interesting, though.

  I just want to know that I’m okay before they take me to the hospital, which needs to be sooner rather than later; my physical self is running out of time.

  “So, you did it,” Flora says from behind me. “You broke through to Chase.”

  I circle around and face her. “I wouldn’t say that, exactly. It’s not like we can actually communicate with people in our world, unless we break someone’s crystal collection.”

  Flora cringes. “About that… I owe your mom an apology. If we make it—”

  “When,” I correct. “When we make it out of here, because we will. I don’t know what you do on a regular basis, but my jetted tub is calling my name, along with a piping-hot mug of cappuccino and linen-scented candles.”

  “Yeah, th
at’s not even close to what I had in mind when I’m fully recovered.”

  “What could possibly be better than relaxing?”

  “Eating at Pizario’s Pizza.” She closes her eyes and inhales deeply. “I can almost smell their warm, fresh-baked bread.” Opening her lids, she adds, “You can’t go there without trying their breadsticks and pasta, though.”

  I avoid laughing. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Personally, I’ve never been to that pizza place, and I probably never will. Pizza restaurants aren’t really my style. But who knows, maybe things will be entirely different when we leave here. Maybe in some alternate universe Flora and I will actually tolerate each other. Maybe one day, we’ll share a table at Pizario’s and stuff our mouths full of greasy, cheesy pizza. Maybe.

  e car,r">

  e car,r">

  e car,r">

  chapter eighteen • flora

  I have to say, it’s weird watching my body being hoisted up a cliffside and placed in the back of an ambulance. Honestly, I thought this day would never come. Being trapped in Lichburn, and then the Shadowlands, has felt like an eternity, even though it’s only been a couple of days.

  I also thought I’d never say this: I’m glad Laney’s body was discovered. Yeah, yeah. I may despise her (and now her sister), but for the brief time we visited the afterlife, we became a team. And we worked well together, I might add. Sure, we’ll go back to the typicalrh-baked I-hate-her mentality once we return to Briarhaven, but at the end of the day, and on some strange, out-of-this-world level, we formed a connection. A connection which just saved our lives.

  Now, we stand aside and wait, I guess. I’m not entirely certain what happens from here; Sara wasn’t too clear about that part of the bigger picture. Do our souls vanish from this dimension and then reappear in our reality, where we step into ourselves? Do we turn into thousands of tiny particles like that kid on Willy Wonka, only to fuse with our bodies again? Or does something completely different take place, like a ceremony or ritual that needs to be performed?