by KJ Harlow
Oh ye who hath bequeathed us this weapon of light to rid the earth of conflict and torment, we return it to ye, with gratitude.
Death’s mouth was barely moving but his voice boomed into the endless abyss surrounding us. The other Deliverers were looking at him intently as he paused. Taking another breath, he continued.
We humbly ask that ye guide Greg Mills on his final journey and that he may be able to arrive safely.
Death finished his supplication. Slowly, he brought his gaze down to the gun and lowered his hands to his side. Everyone turned their eyes to the weapon. No one moved or blinked for a minute. What was going to happen?
The narrowest beam of light appeared in the middle of the pedestal. It extended straight up and until it disappeared. The Lucent gun started glowing gently. Slowly, the beam of light expanded in circumference until it encompassed the Lucent Gun. The weapon glowed white. The pedestal began to hum as the gun slowly rose, suspended in mid-air. It floated there for a moment before the humming abruptly stopped. An explosion ripped through the column of light. Luckily Tracy and Tor had grabbed my hands on either side just before it happened. I would have been knocked back and could have fallen over the edge.
The beam of light became a pyre. The gun was enveloped inside. I shut my eyes and focused on standing upright as my legs came close to buckling. How long would this last for? Just as I thought I couldn’t take it anymore, the pyre started disintegrating. It grew narrower and narrower until it was just a beam of light again, then that too was gone. I slowly opened my eyes and blinked a few times.
The Lucent Gun had disappeared. Any trace of a Deliverer named Greg Mills I once knew ceased to exist.
Twenty
“Deliverers welcome.” Death announced. His bronze-flecked eyes considered each of us as we sat in the meeting room. He passed over the empty seat next to Tracy and looked at me. I gazed up at him, my expression open.
“I have called this Regroup today to go over what went wrong in the last mission.” He declared. He searched my face for a moment then looked back at the center of the room.
“Greg Mills has been Ceased. Stan Butcher is now a Tormented. Those are the facts. I want to hear your stories from that day,” he looked at Walter calmly. “There are to be no accusations or blame. You are bound to each other. You fight together and you will pull each other through adversity.”
He looked to Walter’s right at Agatha and nodded at her. She stood up and cleared her throat. “We landed in a construction site next to the children’s hospital. The goal of the Tormented was to divide and conquer, separating us individually before setting a hoard of Conflicted on us. I took it upon myself to rally our group into two teams. Walter,” she looked down at the senior Deliverer, “led the counter assault from the front line while Tracy and Silas protected the flanks. Meanwhile, I led a targeted attack on the Tormented with a goal to take back the hostage.” Agatha cast a look at Silas. He stood up and readjusted his glasses before addressing Death.
“I was charged with incapacitating Mortimer. From my vantage point, I shot Mortimer in the chest. This gave Agatha’s team the time to Soul Step up to their hiding place and attack the Tormented.” Silas explained. He sat down and Agatha continued.
“The hostage proved to be more… uncooperative than anticipated,” Agatha made a conscious effort not to look in my direction as she said this. “We dropped our guard and were overwhelmed by Conflicted who had cornered us. This allowed the Tormented to reanimate and take the hostage away.”
I looked at Agatha with a raised eye brow. Why did she not elaborate on the skirmish with the Tormented? Did she deliberately leave out the part where Greg was literally backstabbed by Conflicted while I plummeted nine stories before being rescued by Tor?
“Rose, is there something you would like to add?” Death said, looking at me sharply. Had my look of confusion been that obvious? I met the angel’s piercing gaze and shook my head. Agatha’s eyes didn’t even flicker in my direction. She was protecting us. Why? I surreptitiously peeked at Tor, who was regarding Death without any expression as well. What did he make of all this?
“We pushed the swell of Conflicted back and joined Walter’s team back on the ground floor. Cutting a path through them, we made it out of the construction site and entered the children’s hospital through the West Wing. Walter had seen them go in through there.” Death raised a hand.
“Thank you, Agatha.” She dipped his head and sat down as he looked at me intently. “Rose, I’d like you to take over the narrative now.” I pushed my chair out and glanced at Tracy to my right in the process. She was ashen and withdrawn. I had tried to hold her hand after the ceremony but she was unresponsive. Looking Death in the face, I started.
“We entered the West Wing and Tor barred the door from the inside, preventing the Conflicted from coming in. At this point, we had lost track of the Tormented. Surveying the hallway, I saw a sign that directed us towards the chaplaincy. Making a calculated judgment, Agatha and I headed in that direction while Tor made sure that Greg was out of harm’s way.” I looked down at Tracy again. She didn’t seem to hear me. I continued.
“As expected, we did find the Tormented inside. Mortimer was about to turn Stan while Matylda stood by. It became clear to me that our goal was to once again take out the Tormented, which would give us enough time to apprehend the hostage.” I stopped here as my mind started playing the footage of that fight on fast forward. It ended abruptly with Stan shooting himself. I exhaled and continued.
“Stan had made up his mind. He wanted to become a Tormented. He turned himself and the Tormented… let us leave.” I looked down at my feet in shame. Death walked across the room and put his hand on my shoulder.
“Rose. You were in a very dangerous situation but you survived. Don’t feel ashamed that the Tormented had the upper hand. They did,” Death was reassuring but I kept my head bowed. I didn’t feel any better because I knew what was coming. I swallowed and looked up.
“We ran as fast as we could, shooting our way through the Conflicted that had gathered at the entrance. We hadn’t made it out very far before Mortimer, Stan and Matylda came after us. Now that we had failed our mission, our goal was to retreat – together.” I looked around the table. Walter, Agatha, Silas and Tor were regarding me quietly.
“The Tormented came between us and the rest of the group. We had to draw them away before joining Walter, Silas and Tracy in the construction site.” Suddenly, Tor stood up.
“I would like to continue the story from here,” he said, looking at Death. Tor’s hulking frame stood at six foot five or six inches. Death stood at least a foot taller than Tor. The Norwegian didn’t flinch as Death considered his request. Tracy had looked up at this point, her eyes flitting between the two. Finally, Death nodded curtly. I sat down, watching Tor form his words.
“Thank you. Dante and Mortimer had persuaded Stan that I was responsible for Rose’s death. He was chasing me, wanting to exact vengeance. I took him as far as possible from the others but had misjudged my route. I found myself cornered by him.” Tor looked at me, his face again uncharacteristically open. It felt like he was specifically showing me this side of him. What was he trying to tell me? Before I had a chance to explore it, his face closed as he addressed Death again.
“Rose intervened and drew his attention away from me at the expense of her own safety: Mortimer detained her asking Stan to shoot her. Greg, who was being chased by Mortimer, chose this moment to shoot him while I shot Stan. With two Tormented incapacitated, this gave us a narrow window to escape back to the construction site.” He stopped here. He seemed to struggle momentarily before he recomposed himself.
“Greg was felled by Stan who reanimated in time to shoot him just as we were entering the construction site. He was behind me and must have taken the bullet that was meant for me.” Tor dropped his head as his shoulders slumped.
Tracy grabbed my hand and put her head on my shoulder as tears flowed silently down her fa
ce. She looked at peace as I stroked her hair. I couldn’t help but shed a tear as I remembered how Greg and I awkwardly met. I looked around the room and the grief was flowing. Everyone looked sad but at the same time, the room felt light, as if by having the events recounted our wound had finally been sewn shut. Death walked around the table towards Tor. He clapped a hand on his shoulder and Tor looked up, his eyes riddled with guilt.
“I should have been behind him. He was injured. Why was I in front?” It looked like two colossal titans were waging war and had chosen Tor’s mind to be their arena.
“It has already happened. Let it go,” Death said gently. “It’s not your fault.” Tor looked at Death, eyes reflecting a world of hurt that lay underneath. He blinked and nodded, putting his mask of impenetrability back on. Death clapped his hand on Tor’s shoulder again then walked to the wall that Tor was closest to. He leaned back against it and crossed his arms. We all looked at him, waiting as he formed his words.
“Greg is no longer with us, but that is no one’s fault. He was felled by the Tormented. Stan is now a Tormented but we did our best to bring him back. He was too far gone. Dante’s wiles are powerful.” He looked at me casually as he said this. I cupped my chin, drumming my fingers lightly across my face as I watched Death. “He made him believe that we were the enemy and that becoming a Tormented was the only path. The moment he was caught in the web of Tormented, they had him.”
Death pushed himself off the wall and slowly made his way back to the front of the room. He placed his hands flat on the table. He raised his voice as fire seemed to burn behind his eyes.
“I am an optimist before a pragmatist. I always look for the silver lining. I look in this room and I don’t see that we are one Deliverer short. I look in this room and I see that we have six Deliverers who are trust each other deeply. That is what will protect us when we go out into the Overworld. That is what will give us courage when we rid the scourge of Conflicted. That is what will empower us when we search for the truth to take down Dante.”
“Can I go and sit in the Waiting Room for a while?” I asked Death. He looked up from the screen a worker was showing him, giving me a quizzical look. “I just want to think for a while,” I said off-handedly. Death motioned towards the door leading back to his office with his head before looking back at the screen. As I made my way towards the door, I tried to ignore Stan’s picture leering down at me from the big screen. I opened the door to Death’s office and slipped in, closing it behind me with a click.
My eyes gravitated on the spot of the fireplace we had all gathered after we came back. I hurried past it, not wanting to let the weight of my memories bog me down. Before I knew it, I was at the front door. I allowed myself to reminisce as my hand rested on the door knob. The person I was now would be unrecognizable to the person I was when I sat in the Waiting Room. I now could wield a gun. I could shoot zombie-like lost souls. I had people I considered friends - maybe even family - for the first time. I smiled as I opened the door and walked through.
Ding-dong… going up.
The doors of the lift closed to my left. I listened to it whir upwards, disappearing into oblivion. I looked to my right and there was Natasha, hammering away at her keyboard. She didn’t notice me come in. I thought about saying hi but decided against it. My eyes wandered to the front of her desk. I shook my head and chuckled to myself; to think that I was about to beat her up because she wouldn’t let me see ‘the doctor’. I ambled aimlessly around the floor of the Waiting Room for a while. I caught glimpses of faces that seemed familiar. How many Conflicted had already come through? Eventually, I made it back to the chair that I woke up on. It looked the same as the day I arrived: worn and uncomfortable.
I slouched on it, observing the myriad of souls sitting around me as they waited their turn for judgment. I don’t know how long I sat there for, long enough to stand up and have a good stretch. I let my arms flop to my side. I already felt restless. My friend’s soul had just ceased to exist and my boyfriend’s had been devoured by torment. Death was too busy tracking the movements of Dante to see where he would next pop up. Until then, there was nothing we could do… or so he said.
There was something I could do. My eyes spun back to the wooden door leading to Death’s office. I wouldn’t be allowed to do it but to hell with it. Springing up from my chair, I marched towards the door and swung it open. I went back into Death’s office and closed the door behind me.
I froze as I saw Walter standing by the fire place. He hadn’t noticed that I’d come in. He seemed to be concentrating on the fire. What should I do now? Did I make a wide berth around him? No, he would notice me anyway once I went through the door back to the control room anyway. I looked up at the ceiling portal, searching for a bolt of inspiration. As long as Walter stood there, I couldn’t tell Death what I wanted to do. Right at that point, a memory surfaced.
“The obstacle is the way”, I whispered to myself. The corners of my mouth turned up as I reminisced. Stan turned out to be quite the modern day philosopher. He believed in Stoicism and would remind me that when I was stuck, sometimes the best way forward was through the obstacle. If I played my cards right, I could get exactly what I wanted without Death even knowing.
I started walking towards Walter. He noticed me out of the corner of his eye and turned to me, smiling warmly. His red Lucent Gun was back in handgun form, peeking out from inside its holster as his jacket flapped open momentarily. My eyes were drawn to it.
“Hello, Rose. I didn’t see you there,” I dragged my eyes up to look at him.
“That was pretty amazing back there. I’ve never seen so many Conflicted Rid so quickly.”
“Thank you,” he said sheepishly, “it’s mainly the gun, really”. He opened his jacket and pulled it out.
“Is it red because Death appointed you the leader of the Deliverers?” I blurted out. Walter hesitated, eyeing me carefully.
“Yes, I guess that’s one way to put it.” He looked at it fondly for a moment before holstering it again. He put his hands on his hips and looked at his feet.
“Rose–”
“It’s OK Walter, don’t worry about it. You’re our leader. You were just doing your job. Water under the bridge.” I stuck my hand out and flashed a smile. His mouth hung open as his eyes darted between my hand and my face. Finally, he relaxed and accepted my hand, shaking it with a firm grip.
“How did you know?” He asked curiously.
“Women’s intuition.” I shrugged. “I’m guessing you weren’t that great with women when you were alive? Too busy making deals all over the world?” I smirked. A shadow passed over his face. It happened so quickly I doubted whether I actually saw it.
“Yeah. No woman would stand by me.” There was a moment of awkwardness but Walter recovered quickly.
“Anyway, I’m glad that we’re good again. If there’s anything you want me to help you with, just ask.” He waved at me as he started moving towards the door back to the main to the control room.
“Actually now that you mention it, there is something,” I said, stepping towards him.
“Oh?” Walter turned back to face me.
I crossed my fingers behind my back. I didn’t plan this far ahead so I just decided to say it.
“I want to go back to the Overworld and find out what’s tormenting Stan.” Walter became still. He watched me for a moment, his eyes inscrutable. Was he going to turn me into Death?
“I just feel so helpless right now. Greg’s gone and Stan’s become a Tormented. Death’s busy trying to find Dante and everyone else has things to do.” I wrung my hands in front of my body. “I want to go back up and do some detective work. Could you set up the portal to take me back?” I pleaded.
I put on my best ‘pretty please’ face. Mentally, I was kicking myself. That could have gone a lot better. I guess that my tactlessness followed me beyond the grave.
Walter’s expression hadn’t changed. He reminded me of Tor now, the way that he lo
oked at me. What was going through his mind? His trademark warm smile found its way back to his face.
“OK.”
“Wait, really?” I spluttered. He nodded.
“But you have to promise me that you won’t go looking for him yourself. They’re still in the city. You have to be wary.” I nodded dumbly then recovered.
“Yes Walter, of course. Don’t worry, I’ll look after myself. I’ll make sure to retreat if I come into any trouble.”
Walter seemed to take my word. He walked back to the area in front of the fire. He took out his Lucent Gun. It glinted as he pointed it to the ceiling.
“Abandoned children’s hospital, Melbourne, Australia.” He said under his breath, pulling the trigger. The bullet shot straight up and disappeared into the portal. The air around the platform became charged. Walter looked down, smiling at me.
“Whenever you’re ready.” He stepped away and moved to one side. Without hesitating, I walked over to it, stood in the middle and looked up.
“Stan, I’ll figure you out yet,” I said as a maelstrom of wind and light swallowed me whole.
Twenty-One
I slowly rose from a crouching position. Startled by my sudden appearance, a scraggly stray cat shrieked and ran out of the alleyway in terror. I dusted myself off and surveyed my surroundings. It looked like I was transported back to the dead end where Greg had saved Tor and I. My eyes glazed over as I recreated the scene. This time I was standing in Tor’s position, back against the wall. Stan was advancing on me, eyes murderous and triumphant. He fired.
I close my eyes, take a deep breath then wrinkled my nose. I didn’t miss Melbourne’s backstreet sanitation one bit. I looked straight up. It was a fine day, not a cloud in the sky. I pulled my leather jacket closer around me as I shivered, remembering it was still winter. Didn’t matter how fine it was, it was still chilly. Making sure my Lucent Gun was hidden from sight, I retraced my steps out back onto the main street.