by J. E. Taylor
Stunned, I lowered the blade before anyone inside could see, sheathing it and turning back toward the door in my dripping clothes. I expected an audience, but no one stood with their noses to the glass. I closed my eyes and blew out the breath I didn’t know I was holding. Relief flooded through me and I trudged back to the building, trying each door, one after the other, and only finding resistance.
Lock down.
Which meant everyone was in the basement under the gym where they were supposed to be and right now Principal Murdock was doing a head count. I took a seat on the steps and waited for the alarms to subside and the doors to release.
Lazarus appeared from around the corner of the school. I stared at him as he approached and took a seat next to me.
“What in the name of heaven just happened?” I asked, still trying to come to grips with what I just did.
“I’m not sure.”
“Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better.”
“I’m serious. I’ve never, in all the millennia I’ve existed, ever seen anything like that. You erased the tornado they cooked up.”
“And the reapers.”
He shook his head. “No. You just scared the daylights out of them and they scattered. I’m sure they went running to Promethis to report what happened here.”
“Oh.” I picked at a hangnail and sighed. “Lightning hit the knife.”
“That’s not unusual.”
I glanced at him and raised an eyebrow. “Say what?”
“The knife absorbs energy. It’s a natural lightning rod.”
“Thanks for telling me that.” I rolled my eyes. That’s all I needed, to be a walking, talking, lightning rod. “What would have happened if it hit me instead of the knife?”
Lazarus glanced away. “You do not want to know.”
I let that settle and a shiver traversed my spine. “So was I the target?”
He studied his hands and slid his gaze back to me. “I honestly don’t know. I’m not welcome in the ranks and the few that are still talking to me aren’t discussing Promethis’ plans.”
I looked at the sky and then back to Lazarus, an idea forming, dawning, spawning and I smiled. “Think I can do something like this again?” I twirled my index finger at the sky.
I saw a fraction of hesitation in Lazarus and then a hint of a shrug. “I don’t know. I’m all out of ideas kid. Your only choice might be to kill Promethis, but now that he knows you have the knife, I wouldn’t be surprised if he avoided you like the plague.”
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Chapter 28
Lazarus disappeared when the alarms ceased. I sat still on the steps dripping and pondering my choices, none of which settled well in my already knotted stomach. I didn’t turn around when the doors burst open and Principal Murdock’s angry voice bellowed over me.
“Dylan Nicholas Ramsay! When the alarms go off, that doesn’t mean you can run pell-mell all over the property.”
I was already angry with the situation, so I wasn’t exactly in the mood for the principal or his condescending tone. I turned and glared at him, biting down on my tongue so none of the more derogatory comments slipped out - especially the one that would make him gasp and land me in deeper trouble than I’d ever been in before.
His eyes narrowed. “You’re soaking wet.”
“No duh,” I said and climbed to my feet.
“Don’t get smart with me or...”
The anger bubbled to the surface, unlatching the lock I had on my tongue. “Or what? You’ll call my mother? You’ll put me in detention?” Like his empty threats made any difference with what I was facing.
“Nick?”
My head snapped toward the soft voice and my gaze locked with Julia’s. In an instant, the volatile lava in my soul calmed into a cool river and I sighed, closing my eyes for a moment before I looked at Principal Murdock. “I’m sorry. The weather freaked me out a little...”
His red face lightened and he nodded. “You still can’t run out when the lockdown alarm goes off.”
I nodded and dropped my gaze, making my way back in the school. I cast a sideways glance at Julia as I passed, and without being told, I made my way to the office for whatever punishment was in order.
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Chapter 29
“What were you thinking?” My mother paced the living room while I sat on the couch staring at her feet. “Look at me!”
Reluctantly, I raised my gaze, meeting hers. “I stopped them, Mom.”
“But what if you couldn’t? What if that tornado was planned? What if it was supposed to happen?”
I didn’t have an answer for her, not one that I could share without getting grounded for life, so I shrugged.
“Nick, you have got to be careful. You are not immortal. You’re not a god.”
“I know, Mom,” I said. “But I knew this wasn’t planned...”
“-How?” she interrupted.
I clamped my lips tight and inhaled. She thought I hid the knife in my room, and I knew the next words would cause more trouble, but I had to let her know. I had to get her permission to carry it over the weekend. “The knife.”
Her eyes widened and I bit the inside of my cheek waiting for the conniption.
“The what?” Even the inflection of her voice made the hair stand up on my neck.
“The knife,” I whispered and dropped my gaze. “It’s taped to my chest and I used it to stop the storm.”
She folded into the chair opposite me almost in a rag-doll flop, her slack jaw telling me just as much as the slump of her shoulders. It was the first time in my life that I had blatantly lied to her. Half-truths and little white lies, yeah, like all the other kids I know, I’ve told them and I’ve been caught, but never a blatant lie. Before today, if she asked me a question outright, I told the truth, no matter the consequences.
However, this morning, when she asked if I had the knife with me, I lied. I told her I hid it somewhere in the house, but I wouldn’t tell her where. She wasn’t going to let me bring it to school and I knew deep down that I needed it, I just didn’t realize how important this hunk of metal really was.
“I explicitly forbade you from bringing that to school,” she snapped when she regained her composure.
I fidgeted under her angry stare. “I know, but...”
“No buts – go to your room.” She popped to her feet and pointed toward the stairs.
I learned a long time ago when she held that angry, unreasonable tone, to not argue. Arguing when she was like this was futile, and would land me in deeper trouble than I already was.
“And you’re grounded until further notice.”
I stopped and spun on the landing, my jaw open in the same manner hers had been a few minutes ago. “You can’t...”
“Yes, I can. Now go!” She continued to point toward the stairway and her face turned that deep shade of red, signaling I had pushed her too far.
I spun and vaulted up the stairs, slamming my door on any further comments. My heart drummed against my chest as my own anger built, banging and making the rest of my skin tingle. My fists clenched and instead of taking deep breaths and counting to ten like I usually did to calm my temper, I let out a roar and swept the contents of my desk onto the floor.
I wanted to scream, to hit, to destroy.
The more I smashed, the bigger the fury grew. When my tables were clear of clutter and my floor strewn with broken bits of glass and twisted metal, I finally sat on my skewed mattress, gasping for air. I scanned the room through a sheen of tears, and collapsed back on my bed feeling hollow and alone.
I don’t know how long it was before my door opened, but the bedspread behind my head was damp with tears of futility and frustration. I didn’t turn to see my mother’s expected expression, her shock and anger at my senseless destruction. I knew the look and I didn’t want to see it right now. The door closed without comment and I closed my eyes, slinging my arm across them to block out the rem
aining daylight.
“Nick?”
I shot to a sitting position and stared at Julia and then glanced around the room with a huff. “I guess I lost it.”
She smiled, raising her eyebrows and surveying the damage. “That’s an understatement.”
“Does my mom know you’re here?”
She glanced out the window and shrugged. “She’s down at my house unloading to my aunt.”
“Ah. Does she know I destroyed the room?”
Julia shook her head. “You really think she’d leave the house while you were freaking out?”
She had a point. If my mother had been here, she would have been in my face the moment the first item broke. “No.” I slowly sat back on the bed and wiped my face. “Can you grab the broom and dust pan in the hall closet?”
“Sure,” she said and stepped out of the room, returning a couple minutes later and sweeping a clean path between the door and the bed before handing both the broom and dustpan to me.
“Thanks.” I took the broom and cleaned up the broken glass, salvaging pictures from the ruined frames and chucking the rest. The garbage can wasn’t big enough to hold all the broken bits and I grabbed the can from the bathroom, filling that to the brim as well before replacing the few items I hadn’t smashed on the shelves. I leaned the broom against the wall along with the dustpan, and took a seat next to Julia on the bed. “How mad do you think she’s going to be?” I asked.
“I’m not sure I want to be here when she comes back,” Julia answered and bumped her shoulder into me.
I continued to stare at the broken knick-knacks and I sighed, turning my gaze to her. “You know what?”
“What?”
“I don’t really care,” I said and took her face in my hands, planting a kiss. If I was going to die in two days, I was going to go in style, without fear of reprimand.
Julia had other ideas. She pushed me away, her cheeks flushed and her breath labored like I stole it away. “What are you doing?”
I grinned and raised an eyebrow. “You said my mom was at your house.”
She smacked my shoulder and I pulled her close, giving her a full kiss like they did in the movies, tongue and all. She melted into me, her arms tightening around my neck. Her heart pounded hard enough that I felt it on my chest and as our tongues intertwined, the world disappeared.
“What the hell are you two doing?”
The screech separated us like a catapult and I was standing by the window before I could catch my breath. I met my mother’s glare, gulping the sudden lump of fear, inhaling as it burned a path to my stomach.
Trouble didn’t begin to describe this situation, and despite my earlier declaration, I found I cared a great deal and I could feel the excuses bubbling up with a tinge of bile; I swallowed it. Glancing at Julia, I took a deep breath, calming my pinging heart and preparing my ultimatum. “We’re all going to die on Monday, so I figured what the hell.”
After the words tumbled from my lips, I nearly gasped but instead I shifted my weight and stood tall, holding my ground.
“Julia, it’s time for you to go,” my mother said without breaking eye contact with me.
I wasn’t going to be the first to break eye contact, but from the sound of things, I knew Julia high tailed it out of the house faster than she had the day she first saw my father. Neither my mother nor I moved at first but the bang of the front door seemed to break her paralysis and she crossed, trying to tower over me, which was a laugh because I had at least two inches on her. Even so, she could be intimidating and she was bringing out the big guns tonight.
“You are in big trouble.”
I laughed and the sting of flesh meeting my cheek shocked me into reason. My hand flew to the hot spot where my mother slapped me and I returned my gaze to hers, conceding by taking a step back. “If you don’t let me go to the fireworks on Monday to stop the reapers, a lot of people are going to die.” I started and before she could interrupt, I added, “If I didn’t have the knife on me today, most of the kids at school would have died.” I pulled the blade from the sheath. “This stopped the tornado.”
Her gaze dropped to the shiny blade.
“It was huge, Mom. Big enough to annihilate the school and they sent it to kill me. Me, and everyone else in that school.” I lowered the knife, putting it back in the leather holder on my hip. “There were hundreds of reapers outside the school just waiting for us to die.” I paused and she shivered. I offered her a small smile as both a silent apology and to let her know I didn’t have a choice, I had to intervene. I had to stop what they set in motion. “Don’t you get it? They aren’t going to stop unless I can fix this, and if I can’t, it won’t matter much to any of us.”
Don’t Fear the Reaper
Chapter 30
“I don’t think that’s such a good idea,” I said, focusing on Lazarus. “The last time I stood in front of a sea of reapers, they weren’t too happy with me.”
“I told them you wanted to talk.”
I rolled my eyes. Lazarus didn’t get it, or maybe he did and I was just blind to his intentions. I knew he was walking me into the lion’s den, but what I didn’t know was whether he was on my side, or if he had been contracted to deliver me to my death?
“I’ve told you before, this just doesn’t feel right.”
“If you want to stop this...”
My glare shut him up. “Why are you so hot to have me address the ranks?”
The direct question caught Lazarus off guard and his mouth popped open and closed like a guppy out of water. “I believe the best way to win this battle is through talking it out and not further splintering the sides,” he said, once he regained his composure.
“Look, I think your heart’s in the right place,” I started, giving him the benefit of the doubt, “but it’s way too dangerous, especially if I’m on their ground.” My fingers dropped to the hilt of the knife, feeling for the reassuring vibrations I had gotten used to when it felt I was doing the right thing. It lay silent, dormant on my thigh, like it was only just a plain kitchen knife instead of a supernatural tool designated to help lead the way. “I think I have some control here, but in your realm? Not so much.”
“I’ve got your back,” Lazarus said.
Doubt clouded my mind and I sighed, unsure of what to do next.
“I know you’re having a tough time trusting me, but I’m on your side. I don’t want to see the death and destruction that Promethis is planning. It’s diabolical.”
I bit my lip and looked out the window. Unease settled in the air and I shifted my weight before speaking. “What do you want me to say?” I returned my attention to the reaper.
Lazarus offered a shrug.
“Well that’s helpful.” I turned away from him and crossed to the kitchen in search of some food. If I was walking into the depths of hell today, I didn’t want it to be on an empty stomach. As I stacked roast beef on bread, I glanced at Lazarus. “You want something to eat?”
His gaze dropped to the array of food on the counter and then back to me with a raised eyebrow. “You know this is just a glamour, right?” He waved to his form like a magician in a magic show.
I stopped in the middle of squeezing the mustard and stared at him with a laugh on my lips. “I just figured you took the form of a human, you might also have an appetite, too.” I shrugged, and finished making my sandwich. With a drink and an overflowing plate, I took a seat at the table and dug in, ignoring the imploring stare of my constant companion.
“Are you...”
I glared a warning and he dropped whatever line of questioning he started. When I finished and wiped my mouth with the napkin, I leaned back in the chair and gave a single nod. Lazarus hesitated and I cocked my head. “You don’t want to go now?”
“You’re just going to leave that mess for your mother?” he asked with a wave toward the counter.
Sometimes I forgot Lazarus was ancient, but he did have a point-one that my mother made to me whenever she
was around. Clean up my mess. “Fine,” I said, adding an eye-roll to the equation as I stood and started the tedious job of cleaning the kitchen. When everything sparkled, I turned. “Better?”
He smiled and nodded.
I wiped my hands and sighed. “So how does this work?”
Lazarus stepped closer and clasped my wrist in his hand. Cold shot from my wrist up my arm like a creeping disease and Lazarus pulled. In a blink, the kitchen disappeared and the ledge I was on in my nightmare appeared before me along with the hostile gaze of thousands of reapers. My throat tightened in response and the chill enveloped my whole form, leaving me numb and frightened to the core of my soul.
“Go ahead,” Lazarus whispered from his perch next to me.
I glanced at the cloaked skeleton grasping my wrist and wished the glamour worked here because this being with a death grip on me scared me just as much as the crowd gathered before me. I wished for Isabel and closed my eyes to gather the strength to find my voice. “Is Promethis here?” The question barely registered but when I opened my eyes, I saw Lazarus shaking his head.
I could deal better with that than with the reaper gunning for me, riling up the crowd. I inhaled and surveyed the sea of black. “Hi.” I said and raised my hand in the universal greeting.
No one moved.
“I’m Nick.”
Still no reaction and I glanced at Lazarus for help. He just nodded for me to continue.
“Dylan’s son,” I added and that produced a chain reaction that spread through the ranks like an invisible wave. “My father has been kidnapped and I believe one of your fellow reapers is behind it. He’s also been handing out fake death orders and I know for a fact Fate is not too happy with the whole situation,” I said and shifted my weight, uncomfortable with the sudden silence that settled. The air became oppressive, constricting around my chest like a notched belt pulled too far. Instinctively, I stepped back and the knife on my hip began vibrating its warning.