The Untimely Deaths of Alex Wayfare

by M. G. Buehrlen

  “The money from the lost Rembrandt isn’t sitting in a bank somewhere. We use it to pay for our missions. Hideouts like this one. The tools we need. We’ll continue using it if you continue descending.”

  “What do you mean ‘if’? Porter already has missions lined up for me. He wants me in the Middle East to find the treasure of the Knights Templar. He wants me off the coast of Costa Rica to find the Treasure of Lima. I’ve been studying for weeks.”

  “Doesn’t matter. You don’t have to continue after tonight. After what you’ve seen. You have a choice. You can choose not to be a part of it. You can choose to move on, live this life out to the fullest. We’ll be here when you’re born again. We’ll pick back up then. You’ll have a chance to grow up with us training you. You’ll never be blindsided again. You’ll be prepared.”

  I shake my head, clinging to the washcloth in my lap like a security blanket. “That could be decades from now. There’s no telling what Gesh will accomplish in the meantime. I can’t ask you to wait for me to die and be reborn when you need me right now.”

  Levi frowns. Doesn’t say anything.

  “Why didn’t Porter do that this time around?” I ask. “Why didn’t he raise me instead of my mom and dad? Raise me as his own, mold me into a weapon?”

  “He wanted to protect you. We didn’t know it would go this far. We didn’t know Gesh would use these microchips on his Subs. All we knew was that Gesh would come looking for you, so we hid you, kept you safe. We wanted a normal life for you. And you can still have it. The choice is yours. No one’s forcing you to continue.”

  “But you’ll continue. It doesn’t feel right to leave and let you guys fight Gesh all on your own.”

  “We’ve been fighting him on our own all this time. Don’t worry about us. Make the right choice for you.”

  He makes it sound so easy. Like walking away from time travel, from treasure hunting, is something I can flip a coin over. Flip a switch, turn it off. Say goodbye to the past, to Blue, to the purpose I thought I’d found for my life.

  I sniff again, my breathing at last returning to semi-normal. “I don’t know. I need to think about it.”

  Because I don’t think I’m strong enough to let go, even after all I’ve witnessed, all I’ve learned.

  “Take all the time you need.” He squeezes my knees. “I’m here to help you. We all are. You are not alone in this.”

  Oh, but I am.

  He doesn’t know it, but I am.

  Chapter 5

  Dirty Work

  They told me I didn’t have to help, but I felt compelled. The deaths were partially my fault. Burying the bodies felt like penance.

  Digging a grave is harder than it looks in the movies. Every inch of you receives a coat of dirt. Every muscle in your body grows fatigued within minutes. Your hands grow stiff, cramped around the handle of a shovel. And it’s worse dealing with the cold. The ground is hard, frostbitten. My hands are gloved, but they’re frozen to the fingertips. With the four of us, it takes a few hours to dig two holes deep enough for the Descender and Decoy Boy. Levi got started earlier, while I slept, so there’s decent headway to work with, which helps. Levi and Micki have shovels, pickaxes, and tools that slice through roots. They’re so prepared for this kind of thing, and it makes me feel uneasy.

  And a bit scared of them.

  The old, rundown safe house sits behind us, across the barren field, beyond the little stand of evergreens that will become our makeshift graveyard. Early morning sunlight shines through a ceiling of thin clouds, trying in vain to burn away a layer of fog. We’re two hours outside Chicago. Levi and Micki have used the house for years, way out in the middle of Farmland, Nowhere, as a hideout while tracking down Gesh’s Subs.

  “You knew I’d get ambushed,” I say to Porter, taking a break and sitting on the edge of the grave he and I are digging together. “You knew, and you didn’t warn me.”

  “Of course we didn’t know,” Porter says, hefting a chunk of black, frozen dirt out of the hole.

  “But you suspected.” I stare down into the grave, no longer feeling angry, just numb and empty. It’s the only way I can dig this hole. I turn off all my emotions and become a robot like Gesh’s Subs. Deadened, like the bodies wrapped in a tarp on the ground behind me.

  An hour ago, I hit Porter with a barrage of questions about the bodies. How they got them out of Grant Park without anyone noticing. (They dropped Levi off near another stolen car while I was passed out, and he went back for them.) Why Porter and Micki removed the microchips from their brains. (Bodies decompose, microchips don’t. They didn’t want anyone to find the chips, should they stumble across the dead bodies.) What happened if someone did stumble across them. (Unlikely, since this is private property. And at this point they got tired of answering my questions.) I asked how Micki explained why we didn’t go back with the other chaperones and kids after the fireworks. What they told the workshop leaders about my early departure from the group, and how they managed to get my luggage from my hotel room. Porter assured me they had it covered, and I didn’t have to worry about it. It pissed me off, but I figured details and logistics were just another thing I couldn’t fit on my sanity plate at the moment.

  When Porter says he’s got it covered, he usually does. But my trust is paper thin at the moment, and after this, I’m leaning toward taking Levi up on his offer to retire.

  Porter leans on the end of his shovel. Wipes his forehead with a handkerchief pulled from his back pocket. His khakis are streaked with dirt, his boat shoes caked with it. “We have to be prepared for every outcome,” he says. “I wouldn’t let you walk into a trap by yourself. I told you, we’ve been protecting you your entire life. We’re not going to stop now. If I had told you about our suspicions you might not have gone along with our plan.”

  I make a grumble in my throat because he’s probably right. “So what was your grand plan?”

  “We foresaw three possible outcomes, and we were prepared for each one. If Tre’s memory was intact, and he met you at the fountain, we’d bring him aboard the team. We’d help him acclimate to being a Descender and give him the guidance we’ve given you. If he didn’t remember and was a no show, then we’d know his memory defects still persist. And if there was an ambush, then we’d know for sure that Tre…” Porter trails off, glances at Levi, who’s working on the second hole with Micki.

  “That Tre what?” My stomach clenches. Both Porter and Micki are staring at Levi, so I look to him too.

  Levi sighs, stops digging. He looks pained to have to be the one to tell me. “That Tre is working for Gesh. That he told Gesh where to find you.”

  A nervous giggle bubbles in my throat. “You’re joking.”

  Except Levi doesn’t look like he’s joking. I’ve never seen him look anything but serious and somber, and he looks more serious and somber now, if that’s even possible.

  “Don’t do this to me right now,” I say to Porter. My voice comes out breathy, shaky, and I hate it. “I haven’t seen Blue since October. I’m worried about him. If he’s safe. And I’m worried I’ll start forgetting what he looks like.” Smells like. Tastes like. “Don’t take away the one thing that’s firm in my memory.” Blue’s loyalty. His goodness. “Blue is as good as they come. His heart is good. Always good.”

  “Always good?” Micki scoffs, thigh-deep in her hole. She finally traded in her heels for a pair of Wellies. “And how do you know that? You’ve only seen him, what, a handful of times?”

  My fingernails dig into my palms through my gloves. Micki’s right, and it makes me even more defensive. “I know him better than I know you.”

  Her eyes go darker, sharper, under the hood of her black puffer coat. The fur lining shivers in the breeze. She looks even more like a wild animal now than ever.

  I turn back to Porter, who hopefully will hear me out. “We’ve been through this. We thought Blue was working for Gesh before. That’s why I went back to Headquarters in my most recent past life. T
o confront him.” Back to Micki. “He didn’t betray me. He wasn’t the one who told Gesh I’d be his enemy in the future. I did that. I was the snitch. I created the Variant.”

  Her eyes are tight. Angry. “That doesn’t mean he’s not working for Gesh.”

  “Yes. It does.”

  “No, it doesn’t, and Porter agrees with me.” Micki gestures for Porter to back her up.

  Porter draws in a deep, shuddering breath, then frowns and looks at me with his pale, watery eyes. I know what he’s going to say, and I don’t want to hear it.

  Micki doesn’t care about sparing my feelings, though. She barrels right through. “If Gesh has Tre in Base Life, if he’s had him since your last reincarnation, then he’s had seventeen years to work on Tre’s memory defects. He’s bound to have made progress. All Tre would have to remember are two things: New Year’s Eve and Buckingham Fountain. Suppose he did remember. Those two things are all Gesh needed to capture you. Tre would’ve finally served his purpose.”

  “If Blue is working for Gesh,” I say, “then they would’ve sent him to meet me. Not some decoy. Blue wouldn’t need those other guys to do it for him. I would’ve gone with him. I would’ve gone anywhere he asked me to go. I wouldn’t fight him.”

  I’d have gone willingly. I wouldn’t have bitten at his hands and torn at his skin. I wouldn’t be burying him beneath an oak tree, in the frosty ground.

  “Not necessarily,” Levi says. “Gesh would assume you’d come with protection. And if Tre is his asset, his greatest asset apart from you, then he wouldn’t put that asset on the front lines. Not unless he was certain he would win.”

  “So he sends two Subs instead. And the fact that he only sent two means he thought it would be an easy snatch.” Micki smiles to herself as she scoops a load of dirt. “He didn’t count on me being there.” She looks proud as she digs a grave for one of the two men she’s killed.

  “That’s it?” I say. “You’re just going to believe Blue’s a traitor? Without any solid evidence? How do we know Blue didn’t get captured at the fountain like I did? What if Gesh had other Descenders there? Maybe that’s why Blue didn’t show.” Porter shakes his head, but I don’t let him speak. “He could’ve been taken, Porter. He didn’t have a team there to protect him like I did.”

  Both Levi and Micki shake their heads too. Obviously they know something I don’t.

  “How can you be certain?” I demand.

  Micki narrows her eyes at me. “It has to be Tre. How else would Gesh have known about the fountain?”

  You could’ve told him, I want to say, but I stop myself.

  “Hell, it could be me,” I say. “Somehow. I’ve been the traitor before. Maybe I haven’t even done it yet, but I will. I could let something slip in the past that could change the future. How can you dismiss that possibility?”

  “It’s Tre,” Micki says, going back to her digging. “Gesh has him, and he’s using him to track you down. We all know it. You’re in denial.”

  “If you’re right, then we can’t let him rot in Gesh’s hands. We have to find him in Base Life.”

  “Why?” Micki says, slamming her shovel into the dirt.

  “Because he’s my partner.” I look at each of them, expecting at least one of them to understand. “He’s my partner, and obviously that doesn’t mean the same thing to you as it does to me. If he’s with Gesh, there’s no telling what kind of torture he’s going through. I can’t leave my partner behind. I have to rescue him. Give him a chance at a real life.”

  “You’re worried about his life? Are you kidding me?” the tiger roars, ready to dive at me. “Your lives are renewable resources. If this life isn’t what he expected, he’ll get another. And another. Don’t you get that? His life, your life—they aren’t your own, no matter what kind of Kool-Aid you’ve been drinking the past seventeen years. You and Tre are tools. Weapons.” She points in the direction of the safe house, the driveway, the little road leading back to civilization. “Those people out there? The ones living actual lives with actual expiration dates? They’re allowed to be human. They’re allowed to fuck up because they don’t have another life waiting for them. They don’t get a do-over. You do. Tre does. So I’d stop sniffling over Tre’s life and how miserable it might be. I’d focus on your job. Your mission. The team that’s right in front of you. Forget him. He’s only going to be an obstacle for you, and that makes you an obstacle for us. And I don’t do well with obstacles. I tear them down. I crush them to dust. Got it?”

  Screw you, I want to say. She doesn’t know me or my motivations. She doesn’t know Blue the way I do. None of them do. She never saw his eyes, scared and worried, not understanding why his memories change from moment to moment. Holding me tightly when he was dying in my arms, smiling, always smiling, even in the face of death, telling me that death is what we do. It’s what we’re meant for. Just to make me feel better. To dry my tears.

  I want to help him if I can, help him understand. I don’t think it’s fair for him to be subjected to some awful life somewhere, even if he does get another one.

  My anger bubbles, and I’m shaking, shaking, until I can’t hold it back any longer. I climb out of the grave and stand over them, hands fisted. “Why are you being such a jerk to me all of a sudden?”

  She shakes her head. “That sweet chaperone you met in Chicago? It was an act. I was playing a part. It was my job.”

  Even though I figured that was the answer, hearing her say it out loud hits me in the gut, brushes against an old wound. The deep cut caused by countless rejections at school. “I actually believed you cared about me. Now I know you’re just a damn good liar. So how do I know you’re not the one working for Gesh?”

  I expect her to roar at me again, but she doesn’t. Instead, she smiles, barely, ghostlike, at the corners of her red lips, like I finally said something that impressed her. Like she approves of me showing some fire under my skin.

  Her grin broadens. “Finally,” she says, looking at me over her shoulder, “you’re asking the right questions.”

  I try not to act like her change in demeanor totally throws me off. “Then who the hell are you? How do I know I can trust you?”

  She keeps digging while the rest of us stand there, Porter and Levi looking uneasy, like they can’t decide if they should step in or let us duke it out. Micki’s hands must be blistered and aching, but she keeps going. It makes me wonder how many bodies she and Levi have buried in the last seventeen years.

  “I was your Sub at AIDA,” she says. “I was assigned to you.”

  I glance at Levi and Porter, and they nod.

  “What does that mean, you were ‘assigned’ to me?”

  “I was your record keeper. I kept track of your past-life data. When you went on a mission, I was the one behind a computer making sure everything went as planned. I was the voice in your head, directing you where to go, what to say, how to navigate your surroundings. I’d train you beforehand on what you’d encounter. I was the reason Gesh’s missions were a success. That you were a success.”

  I don’t quite believe her. She doesn’t look old enough to have had that kind of responsibility seventeen years ago. “You were only what, fifteen years old? How could you possibly be in charge of all of that?”

  “Kids can master anything if you train them well enough. Gesh was training me to be your Sub since before I could stand on two feet. He said it was my purpose.”

  “And now?”

  “It’s still my purpose, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “Why?”

  This is when she finally stops digging. When she finally faces me. “Because you saved my life when you traveled back to AIDA. Because of you, I got a chance to escape that shithole with Gesh. I owe you, and to me that means a lot more than whether or not I like you. So that’s why I’m here. That’s why I stay.”

  Her eye contact and the sincerity in her words make me feel childish for standing over her. I drop back down into the grave with Porter.
“You saved my life at the fountain. Doesn’t that make us even?”

  She grins and scoops another shovel of dirt. “Not quite. But I wish.”

  If that’s how she feels, then she must have some sense of honor. It makes me respect her, if only a little. I pick up my shovel and stab it into the ground. “How about this? We can call it even if you stop being such a hardass.”

  She grins, ear to ear, and I see a glimpse of the chaperone she pretended to be in Chicago. “Only if you stop being such a whiny teenager.”

  “I make zero promises.”

  It takes another hour before we’re ready to bury the bodies, and just like I imagined, that part is way worse than digging the graves. I stand off to the side by Porter, watching, huddled in my parka, rubbing my sore hands, while Levi and Micki drag each body into its respective hole. Sprinkle them with lye to speed up the decomposition process. The piles of black, frozen soil we made grow smaller and smaller, the holes filling in, the bodies becoming one with earth, until there’s no sign of flesh and bone, only gentle mounds of dirt in a silent, shadowy wood.

  Snow begins to fall, and I brush the flakes from my eyelashes.

  So This Is My Team

  Later, as Porter drives me to the airport for my flight home, I slide my new pair of fake glasses up the bridge of my nose and ask him about Micki and Levi. “Why didn’t Gesh put a chip in their brains? If they were Subs?”

  The snow is heavier now, thicker, and Porter has to squint to see through the wiper blades. “You have to be an adult to undergo the surgery. The brain has to be developed enough to withstand the change in frequency. Levi and Micki were kids when they escaped. But had they stayed, had you not come back and saved Tre, they’d have the chip.”

  For a long while I think about that, until one question keeps rising in the back of my mind. “How did he know it couldn’t be implanted in children?”

  Porter fidgets with the steering wheel. I can tell he wants to rub his pinky knuckle with his thumb. “How do you think?”