Reapers

by Bryan Davis

  Sing took in a deep breath. “Okay, then. Let’s see what we can do.”

  I gestured with my thumb. “I’m heading back to my place to get showered first. Then I have to talk to Alex to make sure it’s all going to work out with the suite mate thing. No sense in involving Cairo until everything’s set.”

  “Sounds good,” Sing said. “I need a shower, too. Let’s talk across the alley when you know more.”

  Kwame shooed us away. “You’re right. You both stink. Now go. You have a lot to do.”

  Chapter Eleven

  After Sing and I said good-bye to Kwame, we jogged toward our alley, Mex’s cloak still in my grasp. The broken and crumbling sidewalk and the need to dodge passersby forced us to employ agile footwork, adding to our exhaustion. Still, we talked in spurts between breaths.

  “How did you meet Kwame?” Sing asked.

  “Reaping a soul right about where Murph was sitting. He just walked out of that office and started talking to me.” I raised my brow. “Why?”

  “Since you trust him so much, I was just wondering. He obviously knows a lot.” She glanced behind us. “How old do you think he is?”

  “Considering the gray in his hair and the amount of wrinkles, I’d say sixty or so. What do you think?”

  “I don’t know. I was asking because his voice sounded kind of familiar, like someone I knew who would be fifty-five now if he hadn’t died.”

  “Let me guess. Your father.”

  She smiled. “Good guess.”

  “Maybe they sound alike because they’re both African, maybe from the same region.”

  “Exactly. For some reason, he brought up my name intentionally. Kwame is Ghanaian, meaning ‘born on Saturday.’ My father was from Ghana and had the same name. Since a seventh of the population were born on Saturday, you can imagine there are a lot of men named Kwame.”

  “Don’t they get confused?”

  “We also have what we call Christian names, so there’s no problem.”

  “And Akua means…”

  “Born on Wednesday. My father called me Akua, but my mother called me by my Christian name and used it on all my official documents, so that’s the name I remember most from my childhood.”

  I angled my head, trying to see her eyes. “Mind telling me that name?”

  “Kind of. I like Singapore better.”

  “I’m the same way. I’ve gotten used to Phoenix.” I slowed to allow a bicyclist to veer past us. “Does this Kwame look anything like your father? Besides being an African male, of course.”

  Sing stared straight ahead for a moment as if comparing images in her mind. “The voice was the only similarity I noticed.”

  “But we still don’t know why he brought up your name.”

  “Right,” Sing said. “It was almost like a signal, like a coded message. I’ll have to think about it.”

  “If you figure it out, let me know.”

  When we stopped at Sing’s apartment building, I stood with her at the door. People approached on the sidewalk from both directions, each one staring at us. Few ever passed by a Reaper without taking notice. We had to maintain decorum. Attempting an aloof air, I nodded at Sing. She nodded in return, her expression solemn. That exchange would have to be enough of a good-bye.

  I hurried to my building, ran up the interior stairs to my room, and fished the keys from my belt. I turned the first two deadbolts, as usual, but the bottom one felt loose, as if already unlocked. Since I exited through the window last night, I last locked them from the inside. Could I have forgotten one?

  After stowing the keys in my pants pocket and tying Mex’s cloak around my waist, I withdrew my dagger, slowly turned the knob, and pushed the door open a sliver. With daylight pouring in from the window, much of the interior lay in view. Everything seemed in order, though my reading chair was out of sight.

  As I widened the opening, the hinges squeaked. I cringed. I never bothered to lubricate them because they acted as a great burglar alarm, but now they threatened to backfire on me.

  “Come in, Phoenix.” It was a woman’s voice, low and calm. “After all, this is your apartment.”

  With my dagger still drawn, I walked in, loosening and dropping Mex’s cloak along the way. Alex sat in my chair, a business satchel at her side and my book open over her leather-clothed lap. With a finger twirling her hair, she flipped through the pages. “Nineteen Eighty-Four by George Orwell. How fitting.”

  “I thought so. It’s a favorite of mine.”

  “Really?” She closed the book with a snap and stared at me with her steely predator eyes. “Until they become conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious.”

  “That’s from the book.” I slid the dagger into my belt and stood in front of her about three paces away. “What are you trying to say?”

  Her stare stayed riveted on me. “Are you conscious, Phoenix? Have you ever thought of rebelling?”

  Crandyke’s warning about Alex being able to read thoughts returned to mind. Maybe it would be best to answer boldly. “Of course. Who hasn’t? Is thinking about rebellion a crime?”

  “Not yet. But we can’t be sure the Gatekeeper will allow freedom of thought to continue. You had best keep dissident thoughts squelched.”

  “Like your thoughts about the Gatekeeper?”

  “I am merely stating facts.” She withdrew a sheet of paper and a pen from her satchel. “Let’s get to business. I talked to Shanghai a little while ago. She is in line for promotion to Cardinal and made an advance request to have you as a roommate.” She showed me the paper.

  I took a step closer. The page contained text prompts and lines, handwritten entries on the lines, and two places for signatures at the bottom, one signed by Shanghai and the other blank. “Her request surprised me,” Alex said. “I was unaware that you and she were so close.”

  “We grew up in the same training facility. We talked a lot when we were kids, but that was years ago.”

  “Then why would she ask for you now after so long?”

  I shrugged. “I suppose she wants someone she can trust. She’s a district hound, so she’s a loner like me. Maybe she’s worried she’ll get someone… well… weird, I guess.”

  “Fair enough. From my viewpoint, you do seem to be a principled young man.” She set the sheet on my book and poised a pen over the blank signature line. “Are you receptive to her request? I could order the arrangement even without your consent, but I am willing to consider your preferences as well, that is, if we can come to an agreement about…” She smiled. “Other issues.”

  “You mean about my participation in the reaping.”

  She reached out and grasped my hand. As her fingers touched mine, her gray eyes took on a brighter metallic luster. “That and another issue or two.”

  “Another issue?” I resisted a cringe. How could I guard my mind from this sly Owl? I glanced briefly at the wall panel behind the radiator—undisturbed. My medicine cache was still safe. “Let’s put everything on the table so we’ll both know what each other wants.”

  “Patience, Phoenix. Let’s start with the bottom line.” She released my hand and slid the form and the pen back into her satchel. “Have you decided to accept my invitation to join the reaping effort? Shanghai will be there, and she suggested that you join us. You would share a suite, so you’ll have a friend close by. Since we have twenty-four hour camera surveillance in the suite, you won’t have privacy, but we can’t risk compromising prison security.”

  I exhaled. The loss of physical contact cleared my mind. Whatever her power was, I had to steer away from it. “I’ll go on one condition—that you drop all charges against Colm and his family and release them.”

  Alex laughed. “Come now, Phoenix. They’re the only leverage I have. If I let them go, what could I use to persuade you to stay?”

  “My word isn’t good enough?”

  She locked stares with me again. “Maybe it is; maybe it isn�
�t.”

  A feeling of weakness crept into my muscles. “But you just said I’m principled.”

  She offered a tight-lipped nod. “Principled is a fair description. Yet I witnessed you lying about who owned the pill bottle. A principled man will sometimes lie to protect a friend, so I need Colm in custody to ensure that you aren’t lying now just to get him released.”

  I studied her eyes—steady, almost fierce. “Then let’s do this. I’ll go to the camp with Shanghai if you’ll take out the surveillance cameras in our suite.”

  “Take out the cameras?” Alex’s brow lifted. “There will be plenty of time for that kind of privacy when you move in with Shanghai later.”

  “No, seriously. Shanghai and I aren’t going to—”

  “Spare me the denials.” One eye closed halfway. “The only reason you want to get rid of the cameras is to hide something, and I’m more concerned about subversive behavior than whether or not you and Shanghai engage in romantic activity.”

  “Like I told you before, I could’ve stopped you from taking Colm’s family, and no one would’ve been the wiser. I’ve proven that I’m not subversive.”

  “And as I told you before, you overestimate your skills.” A scowl tightening her face, she opened her jacket, revealing her gun. “As I said, the only reason for privacy is to engage in some sort of deception, and your persistence is lowering my estimate of your principles.”

  The weakness vanished, but anxiety spiked. When she slapped Fiona, she proved that she was a powder keg ready to explode. Yet, she wouldn’t dare shoot me. I was too valuable. “Listen, either trust me or don’t trust me. I want to try to help my friends, but that’s as far as it goes. I’m not trying to rebel against the system. I admitted to thoughts of rebellion, but I’m not crazy enough to try anything.”

  Her scowl eased, but only slightly. “Okay, then why no cameras?”

  “Simple.” I intentionally relocked our stares. I couldn’t back down now. “I want to enlist Shanghai to help me save Colm and his family from the corrections camp, and I don’t want you to hear what we’re planning.”

  Alex chuckled under her breath. “Well, I must say that’s a refreshing approach. Throwing down a gauntlet, so to speak.”

  I nodded. “It’s only fair. I would be joining you because you’re holding Colm, but you won’t release him because you want me to stay. In that scenario, there’s no way they’ll ever go free, so there’s really no incentive for me to help you. Give me a fair shot at rescuing them, and I’ll have all the reason in the world to stick around.”

  “Very clever, Phoenix. It seems that my stellar evaluation of you is accurate. And this little challenge might be an excellent opportunity to continue examining your skills.” She picked up the book and rifled the pages. “Yet, I require one additional test to prove your loyalty.”

  “And that is?”

  She snapped the book closed again. “Who was your helper behind Colm’s house, the person who snatched my gun away?”

  I took a step back. “What makes you think that person was my helper? I just found your gun on the roof.”

  “I have my sources. They tell me that you have a Reaper friend helping you.”

  I sharpened my tone. “Give me a break. District hounds don’t have friends.”

  “An ally then. Semantics aren’t important.”

  “Just for the sake of argument, let’s say that I did have an ally. Why would I do anything to get an ally into trouble?”

  “Because betraying an ally will prove your loyalty to me.” She touched her satchel. “As an incentive, I am willing to add to my offer. I have been authorized to shave ten years off your term as a Reaper.”

  “Ten years!” I bit my lip. That outburst damaged any hope of further negotiations. She had picked up my gauntlet and thrown it back in my face.

  “Think of it, Phoenix.” Her tone softened to an alluring hum. “You’ll be finished at the age of twenty-three, a perfect time to begin a new life, get married, start a family. You’ll be free.”

  Alex paused. Her offer seemed to hang in the air, like a tasty fruit ready to be plucked. Misty’s words returned to my mind. Just promise me you’ll do everything you can to get out early. I hear there are shortcuts.

  “A shortcut,” I whispered. This could be my chance. Alex already knew I wanted to get the Fitzpatricks out, and yet she still made this offer. Maybe I could get everything to work in my favor.

  “Now tell me. Who helped you last night?” Alex fingered her gun’s grip. “I already have my suspicions, but I want to hear it from your own lips.”

  “Then from my own lips…” I strode to the place I had dropped Mex’s cloak and brought it back, letting gravity unfold it. “Mexico City helped me. We call him Mex. This is his.”

  She eyed the cloak. “Mexico City? The roamer who can barely reap a level one?”

  “Could barely reap a level one. He died at the Gateway depot this morning. He was carrying medical contraband, so Bartholomew sucked the life out of him. They let me keep his cloak.”

  Alex touched the frayed material. “What a shame.”

  “Really?” I tossed the cloak to the floor. “Are you sorry they did your dirty work for you?”

  Alex shot to her feet. She grabbed my arm, bent it behind my back, and shoved me against the wall, rubbing my cheek on the rough plaster. Cold steel pressed against my skull. Her breaths blew past my ear, hot and heavy. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Three years on the street, and you know it all. You think you’re bucking the system being Mr. Nice Guy Reaper, looking down your nose at loyalists. You think I’m just an enforcer who gets her jollies inflicting pain.” She twisted my arm, sending shock waves to my spine. “Well, you’re wrong. There is method to my madness. Pain is just one tool in my arsenal of ways to get what I want. And what I want right now is for you to realize that you’re dealing with someone who could jerk your soul out of your skull and hurl you into the abyss without a second thought. And if I find out you’ve been lying to me, that’s exactly what I’ll do.”

  I grimaced but refused to grunt. “What’s the abyss?”

  “A place no one wants to go.” She spun me around and pressed the gun barrel between my eyes. “You have nothing to worry about if you’ll keep that smart-aleck mouth of yours shut.”

  I gave her a shallow nod. My stupid mouth nearly cost me my life. But did it cost me a reduced term as a Reaper?

  “In any case…” She backed away a step. “I agree to your conditions. Pack your things. A new district hound will take your place and this apartment as soon as possible. I will meet you at the camp facility at sundown this evening.”

  I nodded, using all my strength to keep from shaking. “Sundown. I’ll be there.” I gave her a sideways glance. “Is the deal about the ten years still intact?”

  “That part is set in stone.”

  I suppressed a celebratory shout. I needed to keep the conversation businesslike. “You said there was another issue or two.”

  “There are, but you’re not ready to discuss them. If you prove yourself at the camp, I might change my mind.” Alex slid the gun behind her jacket, picked up her satchel, and strode out, closing the apartment door with a loud click.

  As soon as her footsteps faded down the hall, I locked the door and thrust a fist into the air. Yes! Ten years off my ball-and-chain sentence! If only I could tell Misty. We would dance together like a couple of kids. We got our shortcut, sealed in stone. All I had to do was survive.

  Still, Alex’s “Another issue or two” nagged at my mind. What could she have meant? I shook my head. It wouldn’t do any good to dwell on it.

  I hurried to my medical cache. Since I wouldn’t be living here, at least for a while, I had to get rid of it. Besides, I probably wouldn’t need it anymore, and everything would expire soon.

  After I pried the panel away, retrieved the box, and put the panel back in place, I looked out the window at Sing’s apartment. Through her fire-escape-acce
ss door’s window, only a linoleum floor and a gas cookstove lay in view. She was probably in the shower.

  I threw the box across the alley. It clanked on Sing’s metal landing and slid against the threshold. That would do for now. I could tell Sing to hide it later.

  I rushed through a shower and shave, changed to a fresh set of Reapers’ travel clothes, and hauled a suitcase from a storage shelf in my closet. After throwing in all my toiletries, clothes, and Mex’s cloak and adapter tube, I walked around my apartment, looking for any other belongings. With only one room, it didn’t take more than a couple of minutes. The next resident could keep the dishes and bed linens. After all, they belonged to the Council. I would probably get new ones at the Cardinal condo.

  I ran a hand along the top of my dresser. The tri-fold picture frame was gone. Had it fallen into a drawer while I was packing my clothes? I jerked open the top drawer. Two mothballs rolled inside. I slammed it shut and yanked open the middle drawer, then the bottom. Empty.

  After a quick search around the dresser, I looked at my old chair where Alex had sat. Might she have taken my photos before I arrived? She could have easily hidden the frame in her satchel. But why would she want pictures of Misty and my parents? That made no sense at all, unless she planned to contact my father to learn more about me, maybe to find out how “principled” I was when I was younger. But even that didn’t make sense. If she wanted to use my parents as leverage against me, why would she need the photos? Didn’t the Council know where they live now?

  I caressed my pewter ring, smooth except for a few bumps and notches. At least Misty’s gift would keep memories alive. I could ask Alex about the frame later.

  I walked to the window again. Sing sat on her fire-escape railing with the medical box on her lap, the lid open as she peered inside. With her windblown hair freshly washed and dried, her face clean of tear tracks, and laundered clothes fitting close to her athletic form, she looked amazing.