by Seth Patrick
‘I know,’ said Hugo. ‘I’m pushing for it to be streamlined, but these things take time. Part of the problem with the current procedures is that they were largely drawn up by Robert and his legal team.’ He was referring to Robert Thorne, the FRS Director. ‘They rushed it and didn’t consult the rest of us. Inevitably, there are weaknesses.’
‘Weaknesses?’ said Jonah. ‘They’re damn near crippling.’
Hugo nodded. ‘It was a panic measure, but I can understand why they panicked. It was a shock to all of us how easily the Afterlifers got their consent initiative as federal law, and our procedures had to be bolstered quickly.’
Jonah and Never both nodded. It had been a shock. Revival’s legal status mirrored that of autopsy; only serious religious objection could typically overrule its use, and the burden of proof was on those seeking denial. Two months ago the Afterlifers had managed to get laws passed to shift that burden. Previously, revival was entirely at the discretion of the police and FRS staff. Now, either an immediate relative had to give permission, or a warrant was required. It meant that delays were more frequent, and for revival delays were a serious problem – the ideal scenario was to revive a subject in the location they’d been found, as soon as possible. Delays could necessitate moving a body from a crime scene and storing it, which made revival much harder.
This, of course, had been the intention. What sounded to the public like a reasonable piece of law was really aimed at making revival more difficult, more expensive, and hence less common.
‘Anyway,’ said Hugo, ‘I hope they’ll not make the mistake of rushing things in future, which is why I’ve put your names forward.’
‘You put my name forward?’ said Never, alarmed. ‘What for?’
‘To consult on procedural improvements,’ said Hugo. ‘Help fix the paperwork problems.’
‘Techs don’t have any paperwork problems . . .’ said Never, then he frowned. ‘Uh oh.’
‘We need to assume the worst-case scenario about some of the other Afterlifer initiatives being proposed, Never. So yes, Robert and his team are suggesting further changes, and it’ll affect everyone. You’ll be able to guide that process, and make sure the changes are the right ones.’
‘Sounds terrible,’ said Never. ‘I’ll end up filling in reams of paperwork and knowing it’s my fault.’
‘It’s frustrating, I know,’ said Hugo, ‘but if we push hard I think we can make sure the end result is positive. There’ll be a preliminary meeting in three weeks with representatives from all the FRS offices. They’ll also be considering any ideas to counter Afterlifer efforts.’
‘Will any private firms be consulted?’ asked Jonah. ‘They’re surely feeling threatened by the Afterlifers, too, and we need all the allies we can get.’ Revival wasn’t solely used for criminal investigation; companies offered the services of private revivers to the grieving, allowing relatives to make peace and say their goodbyes. Those revivers were paid far more than their FRS counterparts, which sometimes made it hard for the FRS to hold on to staff. And it wasn’t just the money, to be fair. Private revivers were there purely to help the family and the deceased. With forensic revival, once questioning was completed there was often no time left for the relatives. Jonah could certainly see the appeal.
‘No,’ said Hugo. ‘Private revival is already based around the prior consent of the deceased so it isn’t affected by current Afterlifer initiatives. The companies are certainly anxious about a negative portrayal of revival, but they’re just hoping that the impact on them will be limited. They’re no different from Robert Thorne, really. Crossing their fingers, too scared to take the fight to the Afterlifers.’
‘Agreed,’ said Never. ‘Everyone’s just kissing their asses and hoping it’ll all be fine.’
Jonah nodded.
‘I’m glad you both agree,’ said Hugo. ‘Because there was something else. A case has come up this morning. A sensitive one.’
‘Sensitive?’ said Jonah. ‘In what way?’
Hugo smiled. ‘How would you feel about pissing off some Afterlifers?’
4
Jonah drove the marked FRS car, wondering what he was getting himself into.
‘This sounds like a fucking terrible idea,’ said Never, in the passenger seat.
‘So why did you say yes?’
‘Hugo asked nicely,’ said Never. He grinned. ‘“We need our best people there! Rock-solid dependable!” I respond well to flattery. It still sounds like an almighty cluster-fuck.’
‘It’ll be fine,’ Jonah said, with no real conviction. Successfully reviving the subject wasn’t expected to be difficult, but there was no way Hugo was going to send out their less experienced people. Given the complications.
They were on their way to Chesapeake Regional Medical Center to revive a fifteen-year-old boy who had been stabbed in the abdomen in a mugging late the night before. There had only been one eyewitness, who reported seeing someone run from the scene as the victim fell, but they hadn’t been able to provide the police with much to go on.
The boy had been brought to the Emergency Department in Chesapeake Regional, unconscious and critical, where the medical team had managed to stabilize his condition. His mother stayed by his bedside all night but a sudden deterioration led to further emergency surgery. He had died shortly after ten that morning.
The police had asked the mother for revival permission, and that was when the complication came out. The mother’s permission wasn’t an issue; she and her son had no problem with revival, and she even wished to attend, to speak to her son one last time. However, her ex-husband – the boy’s father – did have a problem. Or he would have, when he found out.
The father’s name was Clayton Fray, and he was a senior Afterlifer spokesman.
It was a grey area, Jonah knew. The current legislation meant that the permission of a parent or guardian was required, but it was unclear about what should be done in the case of a conflicting opinion. Nor was there anything in the law that compelled the police to seek that other opinion. The mother’s permission was sufficient, and the Afterlifers could raise all the hell they wanted after the fact.
They arrived at the hospital, following the signs to the side entrance where they’d been told to bring in their equipment. Both Jonah and Never had been here before for revivals, but on those occasions they’d just used the main entrance. Jonah hoped the request to keep a low profile was purely for this sensitive case, and not an indication of a broader change of policy at the hospital.
As they approached in the car, a woman came out and waved, her detective’s badge held up. Jonah stopped the car and wound down his window.
‘Detective Flores,’ she said. She was in her mid-thirties and looked dog-tired. ‘My partner is Detective West, he’s inside with the mother. He’ll be supervising the questioning.’
‘I’m Jonah Miller. This is the tech for the case, Never Geary.’
‘Glad you came so fast,’ said Flores. ‘Park up and get your things inside. We’ll talk there.’ She headed through a doorway that had been wedged open.
Jonah parked, turned off the ignition, and looked at Never. ‘Ready?’
‘We’re risking bringing down some serious fuckery on our heads here, Jonah. Exactly why are we doing this?’
‘First,’ said Jonah, ‘a boy was murdered for pocket change. The police want to find out what he saw. And second . . .’ He paused. The crime was one thing. He would always feel a powerful drive to help bring justice, whatever the situation, but it had only been when Hugo had told him the rest of the background that his mind had been made up.
‘Second?’ asked Never.
‘A mother wants to say goodbye to her son.’
*
Like most hospitals with a busy ER, there was an area reserved for on-site revivals of patients who had died during transit or treatment. Such facilities were often barely adequate, but the FRS teams were used to making do.
‘Ah,’ said Never when he saw it
, grimacing. It was about twenty feet square, with a separate narrow strip partitioned off to form a small room within the larger. This allowed the technician to sit with the overseeing detective and avoid being a distraction to the reviver as they worked, watching through a large window. The boy’s body was already there, on a gurney in the far corner.
The problem was that the room had become an ad hoc storage area, with boxes of medical supplies piled three high everywhere.
Detective Flores apologized. ‘We tried to get as much moved as we could, but . . .’
‘I know,’ said Never. ‘Often happens. These places end up being used as dumping grounds. We’ll manage.’
‘How long before you’re ready?’ Flores asked.
‘Maybe ten minutes to clear a sufficient working area, then thirty for me to set up. Jonah?’
Jonah was in the corner, examining the subject. The boy looked much younger than his fifteen years. He was still intubated, with tape over his eyes that had been left after the failed surgery, his upper body naked. A six-inch incision was gaping in his abdomen, pads packed inside it to soak up the blood.
The location of the stab wound was in their favour, he thought, an abdominal injury not adding to the complications the way an injury to a lung often could.
He looked up at Never. ‘I’ll be ready by then,’ he said. ‘Detective, is the mother still sure she wants to speak to her son once we have his statement?’
‘She is.’
‘I’ll need to talk to her first. And we’ll need a blanket or something, to put on him before we start. To hide that wound.’
‘Understood,’ said Flores. ‘You want to talk to her right away?’
Jonah took a deep breath. Want didn’t exactly cover it, but it had to be done. ‘The sooner the better.’
*
Flores led Jonah out of the revival room, down a long corridor. She stopped where another detective stood: a man in his late forties, stout, grey-haired. Looking just as tired as Flores. The detective raised his hand as they approached.
‘You must be our reviver. Jonah Miller, right? Detective West.’
No handshakes had been offered by either detective, something that made it clear to Jonah that they’d either worked with revivers before or remembered their training well. Direct contact between a reviver and most non-revivers led to a sensation known as chill. It varied in strength, depending both on the reviver and on the other person. Some non-revivers didn’t get chill at all, Annabel and Never among them. But for those who did, it ranged from a sense of cold – people often described it as someone walking over their graves – to a feeling of extreme fear and a taint of death. With Jonah, it was always at the more severe end of the scale.
‘Good to meet you, Detective.’
‘The boy’s mother is in there,’ said West, indicating the office they were standing outside. The door was closed but Jonah could see her through the small window, sitting, staring. Lost. Her expression was one he’d seen many times before. ‘Her name is Katherine Leith. Maiden name. Changed it back when her husband left. You know the ex-husband is Clayton Fray, the—’
Jonah interrupted. ‘I know.’
‘Just checking,’ said West. ‘Kid’s name is Clayton David Fray Junior, but he uses the name David Leith. Says it all. The boy had been to the movies with some friends. Movie finished nine-forty-eight, the kid left his friends and was heading to a burrito place he loved, a five-minute walk, planned to get a cab home from there. Less than a minute from his destination, he was seen falling, while someone ran. There weren’t many people around, all at distance, and only one who actually saw anything. We assume it was a mugging.’
Jonah nodded. ‘Any chance it was because of who his father is? Someone that high up in the Afterlifers is bound to have made enemies along the way.’
West shook his head. ‘There’s nothing to suggest that. Besides, his mother says hardly anyone knows about his father. She managed to boot Fray out a long time ago, back when the Afterlifers were getting their hands dirty. The kid was six years old. Fray has treated her like dirt since, from what I hear – tried to wrestle the kid from her on any number of bullshit premises. The guy must have spent half his income on legal fees, just to make life hard for her. It’s calmed down in the last few years. Kid’s got older; I’m guessing Fray wondered why the hell would he want a teenager on his hands.’
A thought struck Jonah. He paused before voicing it. ‘And what if Fray wanted a new way to get back at his ex?’
West’s eyes widened. He looked at Flores. ‘And I thought I was cynical.’
‘You are,’ said Flores. ‘Comes with the job.’ She turned to Jonah. ‘We’ve considered it. Fray sounds like the kind who wants to punish his ex-wife without significant risk. He’s twisted, but gutless. We think this was just random.’
West stepped to the office door. ‘Shall we?’
Jonah nodded. West opened the door and entered, Jonah behind. Flores stayed outside, closing the door once Jonah was in.
‘Katherine,’ said West, ‘this is Jonah Miller. He’s the reviver.’
Katherine Leith said nothing; her eyes were vague and distant. Jonah pulled a chair over and sat beside her. ‘Katherine,’ he started. Then, too fast for Jonah to react, Katherine’s hands shot out and took his. He flinched, but with relief he realized there was no chill.
‘I have to speak to my boy,’ she said, urgency in her voice, the lost look in her eyes changing to acute desperation.
‘I know. We need to talk some things over, first. To explain how we do it, that we—’
‘No,’ she said. ‘I mean we have to do it now. Before his father hears. Because once he does, he’ll find a way to stop it.’
Jonah threw a look towards West. There was unease on the detective’s face that was immediately infectious. Jonah nodded, slowly. ‘I understand,’ he said. ‘We’re going to start as soon as we can. You’ll wait outside the revival room with Detective Flores while we proceed with the revival and find out what your son saw. When that’s done, hopefully there’ll be time to talk to him. The detective will bring you in. David will only hear me, so I’ll have to repeat all that you say. You understand, Katherine? It’ll take at least fifteen minutes to revive your son, but it could be much longer. A revival will only last a few minutes, and much of that will be taken up with the questioning. If it doesn’t look like there’ll be time, what would you like me to say?’
Katherine Leith squeezed Jonah’s hand until it hurt, looking straight into his eyes. ‘There’ll be time,’ she said.
Jonah nodded, and stood. ‘I’ll do what I can.’
As he and West emerged from the office, the county sheriff was standing with Flores. He didn’t look happy.
‘This is Sheriff Garter,’ said West to Jonah.
‘The Sheriff has bad news,’ said Flores.
‘One of my deputies has gone, Detectives,’ said Garter. ‘I think he has sympathies.’
West looked at him. ‘Afterlifer sympathies?’
‘Yes. He heard what was going on. Took himself off soon after. It’s safe to assume he’s passed the information on by now. If I was a betting man, I’d say we’ll have company within an hour. Hopefully it’ll take them longer than that to get a warrant, but if they come armed with one, there’ll be nothing I can do.’
West gave Jonah a questioning look. ‘How does that sit with you, Jonah?’
‘It’ll be tight. Depends on how long it takes to get the kid back, but – look, I have medication to take before I start. That needs five to ten minutes, so it’s the set-up we’ll be rushing. Let me get back there and see what Never has to say.’
*
On the way back Jonah paused at a water cooler. He took out his pack of meds, a variety of drugs that helped limit the after-effects of a revival. Jonah had more experience than most with how bad those effects could be. He washed down the cocktail of pills as he walked.
When they reached the revival area, Never was red-faced and
out of breath. The boxes had been rearranged, piled five high in a few places, and some relocated to the corridor. Now there was enough space to let them get on with it; Never had already started to unpack and set up the recording equipment.
‘There’s a problem,’ Jonah told him.
‘Oh joy,’ said Never. ‘What is it?’
‘We think the bad guys are on their way.’
‘They caught wind of it, then.’
‘Yep,’ said Jonah. ‘So we need to hurry. How long?’
‘Normally another twenty minutes. You sure we have time?’
‘We have an hour to turn it around. If we start in twenty, it might be enough.’
He and Never shared an uneasy look, then Jonah stood back and let Never get on with the set-up, knowing he’d slow things down if he tried to help. Three cameras: close-up, mid- and wide-shot. Two laptops hooked up to them. It was only eight minutes later that Never went into the smaller room, where he’d set up the laptops, and started testing the signals. Two minutes more, and he came out with his thumb raised. ‘I have a bunch of other tests I’m happy to waive,’ he said. ‘Just this once. We’re not normally so rushed. Your meds kicked in?’
They had; Jonah felt a little light-headed. ‘All good. I’ll get the audience.’
Flores stood waiting outside the door. ‘We’re ready,’ Jonah told her. She hurried off, bringing back West and Katherine Leith.
Jonah met them in the corridor. ‘I’ll tell Detective West when you can be brought in, Katherine,’ Jonah said. ‘Be careful stepping over the cabling on the floor inside. We’ll not have long. Think about what you want to say. Keep it short and simple. Do you understand?’ Katherine nodded. ‘This will be difficult, so if you change your mind, tell us at once, and don’t be ashamed to say it.’
‘I won’t change my mind,’ said Katherine.
Jonah and West entered the room, Katherine and Flores staying in the corridor.
West shut the door. ‘Let’s get on with it,’ he said, walking into the monitoring room.