Battle for the Afterlife Saga, Blue Courage (Action & Adventure Fantasy): Part 1, 2, and 3 Bundled

by CJ Davis

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication Page

  Blank Page

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  BATTLE FOR THE AFTERLIFE SAGA, BLUE COURAGE

  CJ Davis

  Copyright © 2016 CJ Davis

  All rights reserved.

  This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  ArJean Publishing

  For Shanna, my Inseperable

  Chapter 1

  Afterlife - Present Day: A man woke up alone on the floor in an empty dark room. He didn’t know where he was, what he was wearing, or how he got there. He slowly sat up and noticed the perfect stillness of the room as he rubbed the sleepy feeling out of his eyes. He felt like he had been sleeping for days. A door opened on the far side of the room and a light flooded into the darkness momentarily stinging his eyes.

  “Reese, are you awake?” somebody asked from the doorway.

  “Yes I am,” the man from the floor replied tiredly. He lifted up his arms to block the bright light.

  Reese’s eyes adjusted slowly, and he saw the silhouette of a man in a doorway.

  “Join me.” It was more of an order than a request.

  Reese stood up slowly and shuffled toward the light. The new room was well lit, and he got a better glimpse of his host. The man’s white suit was outdated, with wide lapels and a double-breasted front. His dark green shirt neatly buttoned all the way up, but he wore no tie. Reese examined the man’s face, which seemed oddly devoid of emotion. He realized that the man was bored out of his mind.

  Widening his eyes and blinking, he noticed the room had no windows or furniture. He felt his heart beat picking up. Grogginess was rapidly being replaced by alertness . He peered at the strange man, who stared back at him with an odd clinical detachment.

  “Your Earthly life recently ended,” the man said. “You are now in the Afterlife.”

  Reese glared at the man. He was not in the mood for any jokes.

  “Once “I clear you to go you will be processed with all the other new arrivals,” he continued.

  “All right, quit jerking me around,” Reese demanded, looking at his name tag hanging crookedly off one of his lapels.

  Unflinchingly the man stood there.

  “Ivan is it?”

  “Yes.”

  “Where the hell really am I?” Reese asked.

  "Whether you believe me or not, is of no consequence," Ivan replied evenly. "I assure you that your Earthly life is over."

  “Ivan!” Reese yelled, “Tell me where I am, or I’m going to lay you out.”

  “I process thousands of souls per week. Do you really think you’re the first to threaten me? Honestly, you’re not even the first person to threaten me this hour.”

  Studying Ivan’s stoic face, Reese could tell he wasn’t lying. Either this man was completely nuts, or he was telling the truth, he thought to himself.

  “Well for S and Gs, let’s just say you’re telling me the truth,” Reese said. “Can you tell me how I died?”

  “It would be impossible for me to know all of your little death stories.” Ivan replied. “I can tell you for sure, that you’re now in your Afterlife form, and I know what you’re going to ask next.”

  “What?”

  “Let’s just say, don’t plan on meeting any all-powerful, omnipotent beings in the Afterlife, anytime soon,” Ivan said.

  “Nope, that wasn’t what I was going to ask.”

  “Really?” Ivan questioned.

  “I was going to ask why your such an asshole?”

  “Tsk, Tsk,” Ivan smattered. “Once again, not the first person, even this hour to ask that.”

  “What did you mean by Afterlife form?" Reese asked. Unease was gathering in his belly.

  "Your Afterlife form is almost identical to how you looked and felt on Earth,” Ivan said. “Things are just different here, but I just don’t have the time to go into detail with every person I talk to. Don’t panic though, you’ll be meeting with a transition guide shortly and he will help clarify things."

  "This is crazy,” Reese’s mouth was dry. He scrambled to make sense of what was going on, but kept coming up against vague memories that slid away before he could latch onto them. “Tell me why I can't remember anything?”

  "I have no idea,” Ivan replied. He folded his hands together in front of him.

  There was his childhood, high school, college, but what else? He recalled college being a long time ago. Darkness filled his mind.

  “All right, let’s just say I really am dead, will I ever see my loved ones again?" Reese demanded. “I know my Dad is here somewhere. He was a fighter pilot who died in a combat mission when I was a kid.”

  “Maybe, maybe not, “Ivan replied coldly, tapping away on his tablet.

  “Well what the hell does that mean?” Reese asked.

  Ivan held his tablet down for a second and muttered, “I always get the chatty ones.”

  “Tell me or I’m going to break that tablet over your head,” Reese threatened.

  “Look, it all depends on if you had a true universal and genuine connection with them, and whether or not you have been reincarnated before. Did you sense an eternal love with the close people in your life?"

  Reese ran his fingers through his hair and began pacing. “Of course! Well maybe?” Reese said. “Have I been to the Afterlife before?”

  "Well, if you did, your loved ones will eventually be a part of your Afterlife,” Ivan said. “If not, you’ll probably never see them again. I have very limited records about you, so I’ll not be able to tell you if you’re an old soul who has been to the Afterlife before, or if you are a new soul.”

  Reese tried unsuccessfully to breath slower to calm himself. Ivan continued to look right through him.

  “You’ll probably see your parents, but when it comes to spouses I wouldn’t hold your breath,” Ivan continued. “Actual soul mates are rare, despite the fact that every John, Dick and Sally that gets married, believes they found their soul mate. True soul mates are known as Inseparables in the Afterlife, and chances are, you’re not one."

  Reese folded his arms defensively over his chest. Once again he drew a blank.

  "
When will I find out if I have a soul mate?" Reese asked. His heart raced in his chest. “Or I’m sorry, if I’m an Inseparable?”

  "It could be this week or it could be fifty years from now," Ivan replied. He looked at his watch. "It all depends on when they join you in the Afterlife."

  "Why can’t I remember anything recent?” Reese was almost shouting. “It feels like there’s a huge gap, like I blacked out for the last few years or something!"

  “Why does everybody assume I have all the answers,” Ivan said. For the first time he could hear some sort of inflection in his voice. He held up his tablet, tapped it a few times with his right index finger, and a holograph of Reese’s face was replaced by another person’s. “Now let me finish processing your elongated arrival," Ivan declared pompously. “Believe it or not you’re not the only one joining us today.”

  Reese wanted to grab the man and shake him violently until he agreed to answer every single one of his questions, but restrained himself.

  "Your transition lodging is in C-block, but first you’ll meet with a transition guide. He will help orient you to the Afterlife, and will answer any questions you have.”

  “I’m sure he’ll be a lot more helpful than you were,” Reese said. He clenched his fists by his sides.

  Almost on cue, the automatic door slid open and a man wearing a sleek green jumpsuit strutted in. With both hands he slowly brushed his shoulder length hair away from his face. Right away Reese noticed a solid red cloth armband on the man’s left bicep.

  "Hello, I’m here to take you to your transition guide," the man said warmly. "My name’s Marquis," he said. He extended his right hand. "It’s nice to meet you."

  "Hi, I'm Reese. It’s nice to meet you too." Reese shook Marquis’ hand, relieved that everybody in this strange place wasn’t going to be like Ivan.

  "So, you’re ready to go," Marquis said with a jovial tone. "You’re probably eager to see the streets of Asgelot, the greatest of all Afterlife cities.”

  "Sure, I guess,” Reese replied. Part of him imagined chubby angels playing harps, frolicking around on puffy clouds. However, after meeting these two, he was all but certain that Christianity’s version of the Afterlife didn’t exist.

  Ivan robotically walked away from them, and stood by the portal door, his head buried in his tablet.

  "You have to forgive that old bugger in there,” said Marquis as the door closed behind them. “You see, he’s been doing that job for over eight hundred years. I imagine he’ll return to Earth soon to get a fresh start. That job has to be driving him crazy."

  "We return to Earth?" Reese asked.

  "Oh yeah, all of us eventually do,” Marquis replied. “After a while the Afterlife can become very mundane, and many of us are searching for deeper answers, but all of that doesn’t matter right now because of the Centennial about to start, which I guess you could describe as a sporting event bigger than the Olympics.”

  Excitement crept into Reese’s heart. The positive energy Marquis had, lifted his spirit, and his legs came more alive as they walked down a long hallway toward the city streets.

  “The Centennial sounds great, but to be honest with you all I care about is finding my Dad” Reese declared.

  Marquis shot a sideways look at him like he was crazy and said, ”The Centennial is more than great, and it’s not just some sporting competition. More is at stake than you could ever imagine, but don’t worry you’ll have plenty of time to learn all about this strange new world, and find your Dad.”

  Reese thought of his Dad, ignoring Marquis as he went on about an opening ceremony to the Centennial, which was taking place in a few days. Thinking of a specific vacation memory where he played hide-and-go-seek with his Dad at night by a cool campground, a familiar sense overtook him as he set out to once again find his father. He was just a kid when he lost him. Walking toward the city street, he thought to himself, Would he even recognize me?

  Chapter 2

  Chicago, USA - The Recent Past: Nobody had heard from him or seen him in weeks. Despite their recent fight, giving Pancho personal space was no longer an option. At this point, Reese had to make sure he was all right.

  On his way to Pancho’s house, he sat alone in a jeep at a quiet red light. His chest was tight and his stomach felt uneasy. The light turned green and he shifted gears. His destination was only a couple blocks away.

  He drove past a park where his friend and he used to train. It seemed everywhere he looked another fond memory would flood his mind. It was a welcome distraction.

  He finally pulled up to his destination, and turned off the engine. The night seemed to swallow the poorly lit house. All the blinds and curtains were closed. The moonlight illuminated the overgrown lawn, and a large pile of newspapers by the mailbox.

  He took a big breath, climbed out of the jeep and started walking up the short driveway.

  A large dog barking across the street momentarily grabbed Reese’s attention.

  The boards on the porch squeaked when he stepped on them. He peered through a window, but could not see much.

  He knocked three times, hard, on the door. He waited and listened, but the only thing he could hear was the dog barking from afar. Reese knocked again, but this time with the flat-side of his fist. It was a louder thud, but once again there was no movement or sound.

  Suddenly a large crashing sound came from within the house. Reese’s body tightened.

  He called out loud for Pancho, but still no response. He tried to open the door to see if it was unlocked. When the door swung open, a musky smell hit Reese like a slap to the face.

  Reese slammed the light switch on, revealing a completely disheveled foyer. The floor was full of crumpled up papers and pizza boxes. Chairs were flipped on their side and a fallen coat rack had a line of wrangled jackets spewing from every which direction.

  He stepped forward softly with his hands spread out.

  More loud crashes came from the back of the house.

  “Pancho are you there?” Reese called out.

  “I’m back here dammit!” Pancho finally replied.

  “Coach, what the hell is going on?”

  Silence once again filled the air. Reese kicked a pizza box out of the way revealing an old framed Sports Illustrated magazine laying on the floor with the glass broken. On the front cover was a picture of a younger Reese with boxing gloves hanging over his shoulder, his trainer Pancho stood next to him with his arms crossed over his chest. The caption read ‘From the Future of the Sport to Navy Seal.’ Reese had the same magazine framed at his house, only his wasn’t smashed on the floor.

  Reese found Pancho in the kitchen by the refrigerator pacing back and forth like a tiger. His salty black hair was sticking up in several different directions. The kitchen table had been flipped over on its side, and broken dishes littered the floor.

  “What are you doing here?” Pancho demanded.

  “Nice to see you, too,” Reese replied.

  Pancho glared at him. His nostrils flared.

  “Easy buddy,” Reese said. “I was worried about you, so I decided to stop by. You haven’t returned any of my phone calls, and I haven’t seen you at the gym in a month.”

  “I’ve been busy,” Pancho snapped. He continued pacing back and forth. He breathed roughly, twisting a white knuckled fist into the other hand.

  “Busy with what?” Reese asked. “Why is your house like this? Where is Jessica?”

  “You ask a lot of question for an uninvited guest,” Pancho retorted. “Everything’s fine, she’s out with her friends. I’m just working on a little business project.”

  Reese swallowed hard.

  “Remember the fight at the MGM in 99’?” Reese asked. “You told me everything was fine then too.” Reese waited, allowing the silence to emerge.

  Pancho suddenly stopped pacing. His head snapped up, eyes glaring.

  “I know when you’re lying old man,” Reese said.

  The anger slowly dissolved from Pancho�
�s face. He ducked his head, almost hiding the tear that slid down his cheek. He fumbled for a seat on a dark wooden chair, covered his face with his hands, and wept.

  Reese grimaced. In twenty years of being his mentor, boxing coach and surrogate, he had never seen Pancho cry. He stood awkwardly for a moment, then placed his hand on Pancho’s shoulder. “What is it?” he asked softly.

  “They have her,” Pancho muttered. His whole body continued quivering. He took short quick breaths.

  “They have who?” Reese asked.

  “Jessica,” Pancho whispered. “The cartel has my little girl in Mexico.”

  “What?” Reese said.

  “I messed up really bad this time,” Pancho said. “I was backed into a corner. I had no other choice.” He sniffed loudly.

  “What did you do?” Reese asked.

  “I agreed to use my business to smuggle their damn drugs across the border, if they promised to stop harassing my factories in Mexico,” Pancho said. “I’ve put my blood, sweat and tears into this business ever since we retired from the circuit. Everything I own is tied up in this business, and I couldn’t let them destroy it.”

  Reese shook his head slowly and leaned against the metallic refrigerator.

  “It was a disaster right from the get-go,” Pancho declared. His head hung down. “I had to destroy the shipment on the first run almost immediately at my Ciudad Juarez factory. It was either that or get caught by the authorities.”

  “You did what?”

  “The details don’t matter,” Pancho said. “They have Jessica now, and they told me they’re going to kill her if I don’t make things right.”

  Reese scratched his chin. “How long have they had her?” Reese asked.

  “Three weeks,” Pancho said. “They told me that I need to get them a million dollars or they are going to kill her.”

  “Why didn’t you come to me or the authorities?” Reese asked.

  “Why do you think?” Pancho asked. He made a gesture of shooting a gun at a recent picture hanging crookedly on the fridge of Jessica wearing a varsity letterman jacket.

  “I don’t know what to do,” Pancho said, his voice cracked. “I just talked to them on the phone, and when I told them I didn’t have the money yet, I heard her screaming in the background as those bastards shot machine guns. That was the last thing I heard before they hung up.”