by Boone Brux
By the time Nate picked me up that evening, I’d found my reaper mojo. My hair was short and spikey, except for the two thin pieces she’d left at the sides, and my new platinum color glimmered like a pearl in the bathroom light. I hated to wear a hat but necessity demanded it. Besides, the little sprigs of blond peeking out looked kind of hot. I felt like a character in a spy movie.
One look from Nate told me I’d made the right choice. “You look…great.”
“Thanks.” I climbed into the passenger side of the Suburban. “I really needed a change.”
He stared at me a few seconds and then shifted into reverse. “You ready for tonight?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I clicked my seatbelt. “Where are we going?”
“Out to one of the lakes in Wasilla.” He pushed the gear into drive. “Did you get the assignment on your phone?”
“Yeah, a Nuk Fulsom? But I didn’t see any details on how he’s going to die.”
“There’s a details tab in the corner. It will drop down and give you more information.”
I didn’t feel like digging my phone out of my pocket and trying to read as we drove. “So what are the details?”
“Headless Horseman,” he said.
“Excuse me?”
He smirked. “Or, I should say Headless snow machiner.”
People in the lower forty-eight call them snowmobiles. Up here we call them snow machines. I always figured it was a location thing, like pop versus soda. I scowled at Nate. “That sounds gross.”
“Not as bad as it sounds. Some guys are trying to cross thin ice with pumpkins on their heads.”
My brows lifted. “That is one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.”
“Yep.” He glanced at me and then back to the road. “Those are your clients.”
The little bit of ego boost I’d gained from reaping Lily evaporated. I had a feeling the Lily-like reaps would be few and pumpkin-wearing ignoramuses would be numerous. Thankfully, Nate didn’t jab with anymore verbal barbs.
The drive took an hour. A veil of snow lay in a white sheet across the ground and the full moon made it sparkle like blue diamonds. Nate pulled onto the narrow road and shut off the lights. With only the moon to see by, he inched down the road until reaching the end. Four other cars were parked there, and he pulled alongside the last one on the left and shut off the engine.
From where we sat we had a perfect view of the men on the lake. The whine of the snow machine pierced the night as one of the guys took off across the ice, pumpkin firmly resting over his head. I unhooked my seatbelt and sat forward. The breath stuck in my throat as I watch him shoot across the lake. Would this be the guy I’d have to reap?
Until now I never thought much about seeing the death take place. I only concentrated on getting the soul. “How did you say this guy dies?”
“The ice breaks.”
My head snapped in Nate’s direction. “Then how am I supposed to get to him?”
“His soul will be on the ice, watching his friends.”
My gaze swung back to the group of guys. “How can you be sure?”
“They always linger. Either because they don’t know they’re dead or they want to make sure somebody finds their body.”
“I hope you’re right.”
We watched the antics for another fifteen minutes. A lot of heavy stuff was rolling through me. As a mother, I wanted to march out there and tell them what idiots they were and to stop it before somebody got killed. As a reaper, I wanted to get the job over with and go home. As a human it was uncanny to watch an individual’s life count down, while they had no idea. The knowledge was a gift and a curse. It made me feel powerful, and yet insignificant against death’s force. I’d fallen into this job, and had accepted it begrudgingly. Realizing the scope of my obligations humbled me.
The steady whine of the snow machine motor broke, drawing my attention back to the lake. Just like Nate said, the ice cracked, giving way. One second Nuk Fulsom was there and the next he was gone. Even though I knew it was coming, having it actually happen was still a shock. I gasped and slapped my hands over my mouth. After few seconds I covered my eyes, trying not to cry.
“You okay, Carron?”
I nodded but didn’t reply, not trusting my voice. Screams from the other guys filtered through our closed windows. My stomach roiled and threatened to revolt. It took several deep breaths to calm my nausea. Finally I looked up again.
“It’s about time.” Nate paused. “You ready?”
I saw Nuk’s glimmering spirit standing beside his friends. “How do we do this?”
“I’ll divert the guys and help them retrieve Nuk’s body. You get ahold of his spirit and lead it off the thin ice.”
“Be careful.” Fear for Nate’s safety coursed through me. “You’re not one of my reaps tonight are you?”
“No.” He shook his head and smiled. “But thanks for worrying.”
“Okay.” I held up my gloves. “Can I wear these?”
“Yep. Clothing doesn’t interfere.”
I nodded and slipped them on. When I was finished I pulled on the door handle. “I’m ready.”
We exited the Suburban and made our way down the slope to the lake. Nate headed for the guys and I cut a path to Nuk. He continued to stare at his friends, not noticing me. “Nuk.”
He didn’t move.
“Nuk,” I said again.
Still the guy didn’t respond.
“Nuk!”
“What?”
It wasn’t the ghost who answered. I spun to face a very wet, very much alive man. “You’re Nuk?”
He sniffed and wiped his arm across his eyes. “Yeah.”
“Who broke through?” I was completely confused since the dead guy was still alive and now I didn’t have any idea who I was supposed to reap.
“Eddie, my friend.” Nuk glanced back at the open water.
“Did you—” I scrambled for something to say. “Did you call 911?”
“Yeah, they’re on their way.” He moved toward the group.
I turned to the ghost. “Eddie?”
“Yeah.” He sidled up beside me, his hands shoved in his coat pocket. “Am I dead?”
“Uh, yes—yes you are. Sorry.”
He shrugged. “At least I died awesomely.”
I grunted. “Seriously? You think falling through thin ice with a pumpkin on your head constitutes an awesome death?”
“Hell yeah.” He grinned at me. “You know what would have been really cool?” He didn’t wait for my reply. “If we would have lit the pumpkins on fire like the real Headless Horseman.”
Okay, I wasn’t going to impart any afterlife-changing pearls of wisdom, so I pushed forward with the agenda. “Eddie, you need to cross over and I need to get home to hand out Halloween candy.” I took a step toward him. “Would that be all right?”
His brow furrowed. “Are you telling me you’re the grim reaper?”
I held out my arms. “In the flesh.”
“You’re hot.”
“Really?” I asked, surprised by his compliment.
“Hell yeah. I would have done this a lot sooner if I’d known hot babes were angels of death.”
Idiot. “Thanks.” I took him by the arm and led him to the lake’s edge. “I like you, Eddie.”
He edge closer to me, pressing his cold ghostly body into mine, literally. I jumped back. “Not like that.” A shiver ran the entire length of my spine. “Now stay.” I grabbed his arm again. “I’m going to pass you off to my porter and I promise he’ll show you a good time. Okay?”
Eddie nodded, a stupid grin plastered on his face. “Awesome.”
“Yes, it’s awesomely awesome.” I tilted my chin up. “Hal.”
Instantly the thin line of light appeared. One thing about Hal, he was prompt. The door slid open and he stood in a floor-length, white fur coat.
“Whoa,” Eddie said.
“Indeed,” I replied. “Now that’s awesome, r
ight?”
“Dude, I love the threads.”
“A man of taste,” Hal said. His yellow gaze skated to me. “Lisa, you bring me the most entertaining clients.”
“I trust Lily got where she needed to be?” I asked.
“Delivered to the Pearly Gates early this morning.” His gold tooth winked at me. “That is after a turn around the first circle of Hell.”
“I said no tours.”
“She asked to go, and loved it.” He waved a silver cane at me. “The first circle is nothing more than a bunch of whining pagans. Now the third circle—” Hal looked at Eddie. “I think you’d enjoy that. Sex twenty-four-seven.”
Eddie looked at me. “Thanks for setting this up. It’s even better than I imagined.”
“I didn’t arrange this.” I glared at Hal. “What do you get, a cut on how many souls you lure into Hell?”
“Lisa, when will you learn I simply want to have fun?” He waved Eddie to him. “And this young man not only likes my clothing, but seems ready for a little excitement too.”
I glared at both of them and finally let go of the ghost’s arm. “Fine, but don’t come crying to me if you get in trouble—either of you.”
“Let your conscience be clear, sweet Lisa.”
“And don’t call me that.”
Eddie moved into the elevator and turned to face me. As the doors closed he grinned and waved. “See you on the other side.”
“I certainly hope not.”
As the portal disappeared, my phone erupted in my pocket. I fumbled with the zipper and finally pulled it free. It was my mother.
“Hi, Mom, is everything all right?” Icy wind whipped around me but weren’t as chilling as my mother’s words.
“Bronte’s been in a car accident.”
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“I’m on my way.” My mind turned to white hot panic. “Nate, we’ve got to go!”
“What’s going on?”
I started running across the snow covered ground. “My daughter’s been in a car accident.”
The crunch of footsteps sounded behind me, letting me know Nate was close on my heels. Tears stung my eyes and streamed down my cheeks, burning in the cold. A huge lump formed in my throat. As I barreled up the snowy bank to Nate’s Suburban, I could hardly breathe. Was Bronte badly hurt—or worse?
Once at the truck I reached for the handle. My fingers gripped the door but began to shake. Shivers wracked my body, not from the cold, but from having to relive another possible death. The same crippling emotions I experienced the night Jeff died swamped me. Shallow sobs huffed from me as I wrestled with the door handle. Not my baby. Anybody but my kids.
Nate’s strong hands gripped my shoulder and moved me away from the door. I fought against him. “I need to get to her.”
“I know.” He blocked me and opened the door. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”
We stared at each other for a few seconds while my brain processed what he said. Finally I nodded and crawled into the passenger seat, my body trembling.
Nate climbed into the driver’s seat. “Put on your seatbelt.” I glared at him. “The roads are slippery, Lisa. Bronte needs you safe. Buckle up.”
Somehow his terse words penetrated my panic. I yanked the strap around me and jammed it into the buckle. “Drive.”
He slammed the Suburban into gear. The vehicle fishtailed, but he easily maintained control. We drove in silence, allowing every imaginable scenario to pummel my mind. What would I find once we reached the hospital? All my mother had said was there had been a car accident and Bronte was involved. I hadn’t heard anything after that.
I wiped the sleeve of my jacket across my eyes. Pulling myself out of the grief after Jeff’s death had been hard enough. I wasn’t sure I’d be so lucky if Bronte was dead.
Dead, like the young man I’d just reaped. I closed my eyes and sent up a silent prayer. “Please, not my daughter.”
But what if she had been killed? Would the task to reap her fall to me? When Vella had asked if would have wanted to help my husband pass when he died I’d said no. At the time I’d meant it. Now, facing that very situation, I knew I’d give anything to see and talk to Bronte one last time.
The miles flew by in a blur, but it seemed to take forever to get to the hospital. Finally, Nate pulled up to the emergency entrance. “Go on. I’ll park and find you.”
Not waiting for the Suburban to stop, I flung the door open and raced through the automatic doors, skidding to a stop in front of the reception desk. “I’m Lisa Carron. My daughter was brought in. She was in a car accident.”
Maybe it was the panic in my voice or the crazed mother-on-the-edge look on my face, but the woman snatched a visitor pass from the wall and came out of her office. “I’ll escort you back. Here, put this on.” She gave a single wave to the security guard in the booth directly across from her cubicle. “Lisa Carron.”
He nodded.
The woman pressed a large round button on the wall. With agonizing slowness the doors opened. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, barely able to control the urge to push past her. Not that I’d know where to go. I’d probably start shouting for Bronte, get arrested, or at the very least, medicated. So I waited.
The only person at the desk was young, tall male nurse. He glanced up as we approached.
“Michael, this is Lisa Carron. Her daughter is one of the kids in the car accident.” The receptionist turned and faced me. “He’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you,” was all I could manage.
As she passed me, she placed a hand on my shoulder, sending a wave of warmth through my body. I glanced at her hand and then to her face. She smiled and I recognized her as one of the gifted. Not a grim reaper but perhaps a wannabe or even a guardian angel. I nodded and returned my attention to Michael.
“Is my daughter…” My voice cracked. “Is my daughter alive?”
He looked up from the chart. “Yes, a broken arm but nothing worse.”
Tension rushed from my muscles, deflating me like a balloon. At that same moment Nate arrived. I turned and buried my face in his jacket. His arms went around me without hesitation. For once I was grateful for his solid chest and strong arms.
After another minute of sobbing into his coat, I sniffed and stepped away. “Are the other kids okay?”
I’d just assumed everybody in the car had cuts and bruises but nothing worse.
The nurse shook his head and lowered his voice. “The driver was dead on arrival.”
His words hit me like a slap. “Oh my God.” My hand flew to my mouth. “Who was it?”
Michael flipped through the pages on a clipboard. “Kelly Huff.” He looked at me. “Her parents just arrived.”
Nausea rolled through me. I bent, bracing my hands on my knees and tried to get a breath. Nate rubbed my back but didn’t say anything. The anger over Bronte disobeying me was dwarfed by the fact that even though she’d narrowly escaped being killed, Kelly Huff had not. I stood and wrapped my arms around my body. “Can I see my daughter, please?”
“Of course.”
We followed Michael along the corridor, passing several curtained off rooms. We stopped half way down the hallway. Movement drew my attention toward the end. Three people exited a room. A knot formed in my throat when the woman turned to one of the men and buried her face in his coat. The other person, obviously a doctor from the way he was dressed, spoke softly and then left the two alone.
“Kelly’s parents.” My voice cracked.
I wanted to go to them, offer my condolences, but the action felt too intrusive. What could I possibly say? No parent should outlive their child—ever. And the fact that mine was still alive suddenly seemed unfair somehow.
Nate put his hand and on my back and guided me into the room. At first I was resistant but then I saw Bronte lying in the bed, her face covered with bruises and cuts, her arm in a sling. I practically ran to her. She turned her head and looked at me, tears streaming down he
r face. At that moment my only thought was of comforting her. I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her gently to me, careful not to hurt her.
She turned her face toward my neck. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“Me too, baby.” I kissed the top of head, letting my lips linger in her hair. “Me too.”
“The doctor will be with you in a few minutes,” Michael said, and slipped out of the room.
From the doorway Nate said, “I’ll be right back.”
I turned my head, still resting my cheek against Bronte’s head. “Where are you going?”
“I just need to check on a few things.” He tugged the curtain closed, leaving Bronte and me alone.
It didn’t take super-duper reaper intuition to know he’d gone to reap Kelly Huff. A chill ran up my spine and I closed my eyes. Some days I really hated this job.
Though it took all my willpower, I unwound my arms from Bronte and pulled the chair in the corner up to the side of the bed. I claimed her hand, needing to touch her. We sat in silence until her tears finally dried. Now that some of the shock had worn off, questions bubbled inside me, but I didn’t ask them, not wanting to traumatize my daughter any more than she had been tonight.
After another few minutes she said, “I’m sorry I disobeyed you. I promise to never do it again.”
A humorless laugh hiccupped from me. “If only that were true.” I chanced a little parenting. “Why did you do it?”
She shrugged and winced. “It sounds lame but Fang begged me to go. You may have noticed that me and my friends aren’t actually that popular.” She hesitated. “I knew Kelly was just using us to get to William, so I decided to use her to get into the in crowd.”
“I didn’t think you cared about popularity contests?” It seemed she wasn’t the only one learning a lesson tonight.
Since the day she was born, Bronte had her own style. She never seemed to care about what was cool. At least I hadn’t thought so. I was wrong.
“I never did—don’t really, but Fang does. She said if I was a good friend I’d suffer through the night.”