Never

by K. D. McEntire

  The injured woman gasping on the gurney lifted her arm and pointed to Wendy as she passed, twisting her head to keep Wendy in sight as the EMTs passed. Dr. Kensington was going to be the doctor on this case; Wendy shuddered. The whites of her eyes were red, the pupils blacked out her irises and her mouth was bright red, dripping down her chin and neck. Her malformed face stretched oddly, angularly, out of place and the bones in her forearms punched through the skin, spiky and white and pulsing.

  Despite all that, it was obvious that the two women could see them. The robed woman dodged around Eddie as she hurried through the swinging doors, dropping her left bunny slipper in the process. Wendy attempted to pick it up to return it to the robed woman. Wendy'd forgotten she was a spirit; her hand went right through it.

  “Wait. Wait a second. I know that slipper,” Wendy muttered and raced out the door, hot on Dr. Kensington's heels. Eddie and Piotr followed. The doctor sped through the Neurology wing and down a narrow hallway, stopping at last at the Psychiatry ward. There he tapped on the glass and a bored-looking orderly pushed a buzzer.

  Dr. Kensington and his three ghostly tails stepped into a tiny room where the orderly examined the doctor “Is this strictly necessary?” the doctor demanded. “I'm not going to smuggle her any weapons.”

  “Who?” Wendy asked, wishing the doctor could hear her. “The bunny slipper lady didn't look crazy to me. Frazzled, yes, crazy, no. She could see us, though…they both could.” Thinking about the woman on the gurney, the one who'd pointed at her, Wendy mused, “Maybe it's her friend?”

  “Orders, sir,” the orderly said casually, lifting up the gigantic doctor's lab coat and patting down his hips. “Are those glasses yours, sir?”

  Dr. Kensington, startled, flushed. “No. These belong to my nurse. She handed them to me and—”

  Ignoring Dr. Kensington's flustered excuse, the orderly reached over to his station and grabbed a plastic basket. “In the basket, sir. You'd be surprised what some of these folks can do with a little bit of wire like that. And those lenses don't look like no safety glass, neither. In the basket.”

  Dr. Kensington, gritting his teeth, dropped the glasses in the basket, his sleeves shifting enough that Wendy could see the edge of the tattoo circling his wrist. “Will that be all, son?”

  “Go ahead. I'll buzz you in.” The orderly waved him on.

  “Why are we on the psych ward, do you wonder?” Eddie asked and Piotr shrugged. Wendy, however, had an idea. It was a disturbing, impossible idea, but one that wouldn't let go.

  “Piotr,” she said slowly as they followed Dr. Kensington through two more buzzing doors and into a great, empty tiled room with folding chairs and tables lining the far wall, “what do you think would happen if one of those creatures tried inhabiting a human? A living human, not just a spirit?”

  “I…I don't know.” Piotr paused, blinking in surprise. “Living flesh is not malleable the way essence is. If I want, I can change my clothing at will. I could, with enough energy and time, could even change my face itself. But the living are not loosely put together the ways souls are. Would that not kill a living person?”

  “It probably would,” Eddie agreed uneasily. “I mean, what that crazy thing did to Ada was just—”

  “What if it didn't?” Wendy demanded, moving quickly to keep up with Dr. Kensington. He left the vast tiled room and took a left, gesturing for the nurse at the desk to buzz him into a room across from their station. “What if it found a way to—oh, holy shit!” Wendy backpedaled and slammed into Piotr, sending him skidding to the floor.

  The room was covered in shit and vomit and blood. The woman who had pointed at Wendy was no more; her discarded flesh lay on the floor of the room like a snakeskin.

  What remained of the woman clung to the ceiling by her teeth and her nails—muscles glistening, tendons hardening in the air, veins pulsing, desperately trying to bring blood to an envelope of skin that was simply no longer there.

  “A chorbn,” Eddie cursed behind her, dismay and disgust coloring the Yiddish.

  “Dawn's coming,” the creature crowed happily. “I can taste it!”

  Dr. Kensington, snarling a warning, slammed the door behind him—closing it, locking it—and flung the slipper to the ground beneath the creature. The thing turned its head 180 to examine it but, thankfully, didn't stretch its neck the way Elle had to get a closer look.

  “Your girlfriend—pardon me, ex-girlfriend—was so desperate to have you back to normal that she would have tried to swim to Alcatraz if I'd asked her to,” he said proudly. “I had her take a rowboat. But here's the proof. She's dead.”

  The creature chuckled and dropped to the ground in front of the doctor with a wet, meaty thump. Blood sprayed him in the face but Dr. Kensington didn't flinch. He smiled.

  “Never her mind. Gone. Good. Now you brought some friends with you,” growled the creature. “Tasty meat in you, soft life-in-death from them. Dessert!”

  “Friends? Do you mean ghosts?” The doctor looked around the room, then slapped himself in the forehead. “Silly me. You've got me thinking I can see them, too. There are some in the room, you say?” He laughed and shook his head. “No worries, Kara. Shades are always wandering these halls. Pay them no mind.”

  The Kara-creature tilted its head at the doctor like an owl, nearly upside down, but then shrugged and rose to its feet. “I tire of this room. Let me out. I want to eat!”

  “No,” Dr. Kensington snarled. “We've punched another couple holes in the Never, but it's not enough yet. I wish you'd kept the skin on…you are a mess! It will have to be sheer chaos out there before I dare let you go free. You'll be noticed like this for sure.” He prodded the bunny slipper with his foot. Wendy could see the blood speckling the top and suddenly, as if a switch flipped in her head, she sensed where the owner of the slipper had gone and knew without question what had happened to her.

  “Less than a day,” the creature moaned, clicking its teeth at Dr. Kensington. “The hole is opening…opening so wide!”

  “Be patient,” the doctor urged it. “Now. Are you sure you don't know where Laurie kept the spare keys? I must—must—get into the vault under Russian Hill. There are other methods, but your house is the most direct. We need that vault.”

  “Reapers had a key,” the creature hummed. “Had a key and lost-lost-lost it.”

  “Not to the front door, they didn't,” Dr. Kensington growled, unamused. “Think! Probe that meaty brain you're sucking dry and come up with the answer!”

  The creature paused in its swaying, puddles of clear saliva dripping down its grisly chin and then, after a long, drooling moment, shook its head. “She blocks me, what little there is of her left. She blocks me.”

  “Keep trying,” Dr. Kensington urged but without passion or force. “Just…keep trying. Every memory. She has to know where another key is. She has to.” He gestured for the creature to ascend to the ceiling once more, and waited until it hung like a bat before he turned his back on the creature and tapped on the slit in the door. A loud buzz made the handle vibrate; Dr. Kensington eased out of the room.

  “Oh doctor!” the nurse cried. “You've got blood all over your face!”

  “She bit her tongue and spat at me,” he said, the lie flowing so smoothly off his lips that Wendy actually believed him for a split second.

  “Do I need to call—”

  “It's already healing, she'd saved some in her cheek for me,” he insisted, waving a hand at the nurse. “She's on lockdown in there, though. No one is to go in under any circumstances until I can get her regular doctor in on Monday. She knows her food is coming in under the door. Keep it that way. No. Contact. She's too dangerous. Do you understand me?”

  “Yes, sir,” the nurse said, flustered. “You've got…” she made a circling motion around her face. “A little…um…everywhere.”

  “I'll see to it,” he said dryly and headed for the men's room, leaving Piotr, Eddie, and Wendy staring at one another, dumbfounded.


  Slowly Wendy dug in her pocket, pulling out the knife and the necklace Clyde gave her. The key still gleamed at the end of the chain.

  “I think,” she said softly, “we're going to have to brave the forest again to get to Russian Hill. Because if that dude wants something there so desperately that he fed those chicks to the creatures…well…we'd better get to it first. Clyde gave us this key. Everyone's looking for it. We should go soon.”

  “Well,” Eddie said, “we could start by—”

  “No,” Wendy snapped. “No, no, no. I need you here.”

  “Excuse me? I'm not some baggage that you can just—”

  “Eddie!” Wendy said, grabbing her best friend by the shoulders and shaking him. “I know you're freaked out. I get that! But did you just see what I saw? I. Need. You. Here. I need you here to make sure that asshole doesn't try to shove a creature down my throat—literally.”

  “I just—”

  “Edward,” Piotr said sharply. “Tonight I have lost my two oldest friends. Lily and Elle are gone. They are in the Light. Please do not make Wendy suffer the same as I suffer. Puzhalsta.”

  Eddie swallowed and looked around, realizing for the first time that Lily and Elle were not tagging along. “They're…dead? Lily's dead? Like dead-dead? Really?”

  “Yeah,” Wendy said dully, reaching forward and drawing Eddie into a tight hug. Eddie smelled like his leather motorcycle jacket and wood smoke and the coconut oil he used to keep his silvery-dyed hair smooth. She inhaled his scent deeply and stood on tiptoes to kiss the corner of his mouth. “I'm sorry. It…it was Jane. She got Lily. And one of the creatures got Elle. I…I couldn't stop it, Eds. I tried but I couldn't.”

  Eddie began to cry and Wendy pulled him closer.

  “I can see that this…this is personal. I will go,” Piotr said abruptly. “Please excuse me.” He turned and strode down the hall, his shoes clicking loudly in the silence.

  Wendy clung to Eddie like a drowning swimmer cast upon a buoy. Eddie just held Wendy and stroked her hair as she shivered with rage and sorrow in the circle of his arms.

  “Come on,” Eddie said, roughly clearing his throat after a few minutes. “Before you go there's someone you'll want to see.” He led the way down the hall. Wendy realized they were heading to his room.

  “Did you get a roomie?” she asked, wiping her eyes and feeling the need to lighten the mood with a little teasing.

  “In a matter of speaking,” Eddie said. He stepped aside and let Wendy be the first to enter.

  Emma looked up from her spot beside Eddie's bed.

  “Emma!” Wendy cried, rushing across the room and dropping to her knees beside the doctor. Emma's face was drawn, the circles under her eyes heavily shadowed and purple, but she was firm in the Never. Wendy flung herself at the slim doctor and hugged her tightly.

  “Emma, I thought you were dead!” Wendy exclaimed, shaking with suppressed emotion as she drew back. Her mouth was dry, her palms sweaty. “They hauled your body out and the Lady Walker said…they said that she'd dragged some Reaper's soul into the forest…I thought it was you!”

  “I'm not dead,” Emma said, hands clenching her skirt taut between her knees. She forced herself to relax, visibly straightening and taking deep, even breaths. “Close, but not there yet.”

  “What happened?”

  Emma raised an eyebrow. “Wendy, please. You're certainly smarter than that. By now you have to have the lay of the land. What do you think happened?”

  “You were going to help me,” Wendy sighed. “Undo all of Jane's sneaky work. Jane and Elise couldn't have that.”

  Emma touched a finger to her nose. “Bingo. Grandmother was…most displeased to learn that I intended to aid you in unbinding yourself. She had Jane…waylay me. One splitting headache and a high fever later, I find myself here.”

  Wendy cocked an eyebrow. “Speaking of…how are you here like this? Is your Light sealed away like mine?”

  “My Light is safe. Jane merely administered a poison we normally use to wake Reapers to the Light. It's called drinking from the Good Cup. It brings you quite close to death if dosed properly. Jane was less than careful. I have faith, however. I'll be feverish for several days, but I've beaten this before, when I was initiated into the Reapers. I will beat it again.”

  “Oh. I thought maybe that you were like Eddie, like they wrapped your cord up the same way they did his.”

  “They wrapped your cord? That's it?” Emma gaped at Eddie; she grabbed him by the shoulder and shook in frustration. “I can fix that! That is simple to undo! Why didn't you say anything, Eddie?! Do you like risking your life?”

  “I didn't think about it,” Eddie said, flushing. “I was just so glad to see you still…well, sort of alive. It didn't even cross my mind to tell you that we figured out what the problem with my body was.” He held up a nearly translucent hand. “Though I guess I should've, huh?”

  Emma, laughing, shook her head. “I'm impressed, Wendy, I really am. Now that I look at him closely, I'm amazed that I didn't see the wrapping of his soul before. Come here, Eddie.” She held out her hands.

  Eddie hesitated. “What are you going to do?”

  “I'm going to do what should have been done days ago, Eddie. I'm going to fix you.” Emma cracked her knuckles and shook her hands to loosen them. “Come here.”

  He hesitated. “But what if Wendy needs—”

  “Eddie,” Wendy said sharply. “Do it. I can't…it kills me to say this, but I can't help you. Not like this. Not with everything going on. Please, Eddie. Please.”

  Eddie remained unconvinced. “Will it hurt?”

  “No, Eddie, it won't,” Emma said kindly. “It's a matter of finding the edge of your cord and spinning. Unraveling. Cords are stretchy and flexible; they hold an immense amount of personal power in them—which is why a Walker's cord, their connection to the Light, rots away as they take in the essence of others.”

  Wendy frowned. That explained why Elle's body had virtually exploded when her cord was severed.

  Emma, noting Wendy's angry expression, interpreted her concern incorrectly.

  “I assure you, Eddie will be fine—nice and solid and waking up in no time at all. If I'd only known this before…so much misery could have been avoided!”

  Frowning, Wendy sat back and held up a hand as Emma had held up Eddie's, wiggling her fingers in the pre-dawn light filtering in through the window. Her fingers were thinner along the edges, her hand losing substance. She wrapped one hand around the other wrist and squeezed, feeling the strange sensation of her not-flesh giving beneath her grip.

  “Speaking of the spirit getting thin,” Emma said, grimacing and examining her own hands. They were growing paler. “I'm running out of time. I must be waking up. Come here, Eddie.”

  Eddie stepped forward. “Okay,” he whispered. “Do it. I'll hold down the fort. But you…don't you go getting yourself taken over, okay? No creature feature for you. Please?”

  “Scout's honor,” Wendy promised, tears in her eyes. “I love you, you know that, right? You big lug.”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Eddie said. He wasn't crying but his voice was thick and tight. He pressed a sweet kiss to Wendy's temple and she inhaled the scent of him, trying to imprint his essence on her very soul. “I bet you say that to all your dead sexy best friends.”

  “Just you,” Wendy said, playfully chucking him under the chin, attempting to shake off the overwhelming feeling that she would never see Eddie again. She stepped back to put distance between them, to give herself a moment to be separate before she lost yet another friend in the Never. “Just you, I promise.”

  “Hey, Wendy?” Eddie asked. When Wendy looked him in the eye Eddie winked and blew her a kiss. “All that stuff I said before, in my letter? I still mean it. I love you.”

  “I know, Eds.” Then she moved aside as Emma knelt down and began to unravel the mess the Reapers had made of Eddie's cord.

  “About Pete. If he treats you badly—�
�

  “You'll be the first person I'll call,” Wendy assured him. “Scout's honor.”

  “Amateurs,” Emma muttered under her breath, her fingers darting in and out of Eddie's gut with remarkable speed. Beneath her hands the silver unwound from his center, whole but thin.

  “What now?” Eddie asked. He cleared his throat nervously. Wendy crossed her arms over her chest. Part of her ached and wanted to run to him, to hold him one last time just in case…in case…

  She held off.

  “Sit in your body, Eddie,” Emma instructed. “Lay back and try to line yourself up right. If anything feels like it's hanging out, it probably is.”

  Eddie chuckled as he edged onto the hospital bed. “No peeking at my insides, ladies, or under the sheet. A guy needs some privacy, you know.”

  “Be good, Eds,” Wendy said.

  “Always,” he replied and laid back. Emma's hands flew over his midsection and, just like that, the loop of silver cord in her hands was gone.

  “That's it?” Wendy said, amazed.

  “That's it,” Emma said and sighed. She sagged a little and Wendy rushed forward, catching her.

  “You're a dumbass,” Wendy said baldly. “You used some of yourself to link him back to his body, didn't you?”

  “Had to,” Emma said, wiping the back of her wrist against her forehead. “Whoever tied him up blocked him very well…on purpose.”

  “Elise,” Wendy said.

  “Most likely. Or Jane.” Emma coughed roughly and held up a pale hand. “I'm cold. My body is, rather. They must be trying something new with me to keep my temperature down. How do you feel?”

  “Thin,” Wendy admitted. With Eddie gone and Piotr out of the room, she felt free to just be herself for once. “I don't know how much longer I can keep going, to be honest.”

  “I'm surprised you've held on this long,” Emma agreed and winced. “You truly are very strong, Wendy.”

  “Just don't give up, okay? I'll try and sort this all out as fast as I can.”