Nine Lives (The Katran Legacy)

by Karin De Havin

  The Katran Legacy Series

  Nine Lives Part I

  Nine Lives Part II (Preview Included) coming February 2015

  Book Description

  Eighteen-year-old Taylor knows two things for sure: ONE: She’s dead. TWO: Heaven looks like a run-down version of the Las Vegas Strip. The more she discovers about a heaven full of teens like her, the more mysterious it becomes—especially when her afterlife coach turns out to be her tyrannical fifth grade teacher.

  Plagued by questions her whole life, Taylor finds Heaven prompts even more. Why can’t she remember her death? Why isn’tHeaven the idyllic place she thought it would be? When she dares to ask, her teacher tells Taylor to keep her mouth shut. Everyone knows Heaven is perfect.That’s a lie. What are they trying to hide? Taylor desperately wants to flee this strange place and return to her old life. She’s shocked to find out there’s a possibility her dream can come true. But that chance depends on passing a series of tests in the Afterlife for Idiots handbook and winning the Cloud Nine Contest. If she fails, will her teacher follow through on her threat and turn Taylor into pond scum?

  Taylor tries to solve the mysteries of Heaven as it slowly crumbles around her. While competing in the Contest, she learns there are dark forces at work behind the celestial show…and they are after her. This leads to the biggest questions of all: Is she the only one who can stop them?

  Nine Lives

  Copyright © 2015 by Karin De Havin

  Published by 9 Yards Publishing

  Cover design C & K Creations

  Edited by Carolyn M. Pinard

  All rights reserved

  This book is the property of Karin De Havin, in all media both physical and digital. No one, except the owner of this property, may reproduce, copy or publish in any medium any individual story or part of this anthology without the expressed permission of the author of this work.

  This is a work of fiction. The characters, places, brands, and events portrayed in this book are products of the author’s imagination. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise without express written permission of the author. This eBook is licensed for your enjoyment only. It may not be re-sold or given away to other people.

  Acknowledgement

  A huge thank you to my main critique partner Craig for his support and occasional hand slapping. To my wonderful critique group Laurie, Donna, Sandy, and Barbara, for patiently reading the early drafts of Nine Lives. To my other fearless critique group Romi, Nicole, Will, Lizzie and Jen. Thanks for making critique meetings a blast and for believing in my Heaven story. And to Wanita my mentor, and awesome writing buddy.

  Last but not least I’d like to say thank you to my family for believing in me. Thanks to my best friend Cynthia for being a great cheerleader. An extra special thank you to my husband Dave, without his amazing support Nine Lives would never have become a reality.

  Table of Contents

  NINE LIVES

  Chapter One- No Freaking Way

  Chapter Two- The Temple of Truth

  Chapter Three- Play Time

  Chapter Four- Detention Blues

  Chapter Five- Heavenly Escape

  Chapter Six- Dead But Not Buried

  Chapter Seven- To Grandmother’s House I Go

  Chapter Eight- Not Again!

  Chapter Nine- The Cloud Nine Contest

  Chapter Ten- The Truth Hurts

  Preview Part Two

  Chapter One- Here We Go Again!

  Chapter Two- Marilyn Moment

  Chapter One

  No Freaking Way

  A shadowy fog clung to my body. Except, how could I stare down at myself? Strange. Where am I? Definitely not my bedroom. You could see my neon-striped comforter from outerspace.

  Something tugged at me like a giant vacuum cleaner. A blinding light made it impossible to see. I rubbed my eyes. When I opened them I was standing in an enormous plaza surrounded by mile-high skyscrapers. Everything sparkled and glowed so brightly I had to squint. I swallowed hard when a message appeared between two thunderclouds:

  Taylor N. Anderson. Departed Earth: August 20, 4:30 pm. Current Level: Junior Heaven.

  I read the sign one more time. Did the words really mean what I thought? Nah. I didn’t remember boarding a celestial plane.

  The message flickered for a moment, then changed:

  We are pleased to inform you that you are eligible for our rehabilitation program. Congratulations and good luck.

  I wiggled my fingers. Nothing bruised or broken. No blood. All my scars were still there—a map of my clumsiness and a few bad decisions. Other than an obnoxious low buzzing in my ears, and a sketchy memory, I was fine. Alive.

  On shaky feet, I walked into the empty square plaza. The thick, humid air felt like Florida in the summer. Most people would have broken a sweat. I loved the sauna-like heat. My gramp always joked I must be part iguana.

  My eyes strained under the perpetual glare of Junior Heaven. I walked deeper into the plaza, and my foot caught the edge of an uneven gold paver. The massive mirrored buildings that lined the plaza were chipped around the edges.

  Everything was slightly flawed—like me.

  Could I really be dead?

  Jumping jacks. I needed to wake myself up.

  One-two-three-four…

  In mid-jump, a fragrance hung thick in the air. Roses. I turned around and the smell grew stronger. Something glowing descended on an invisible silk cord like the acrobats in Cirque Du Soleil. The object moved toward me. I blinked hard. A mass of platinum blond hair framed a china doll face. She looked like a young Christina Aguilera. No way! An angel.

  “That’s not going to work, you know.” A playful glint shone in her blue eyes.

  I stopped jumping.

  The angel extended her hand from a billowy sleeve. “My name is Sabrina. I’m your guardian.” She flashed a celebrity smile. “Guess you think the Boss’s timing’s a bit off. I bet you thought you could screw up for years.”

  Guardian angels really existed? I didn’t expect them to be so snarky. My CSI brain kicked in. Things weren't adding up. This had to be some kind of weird dream. If this were Heaven, my grandparents would be here to greet me. My heart skipped a beat. What about my almost-boyfriend Ryan? He died just a week ago saving his brother’s life. Was I having this dream because I missed him so much?

  Sabrina gave me a smile. “You’ll be with him again.”

  Did she just read my mind?

  “Yes, I did.” The angel put her hand on my shoulder. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “Sorry.” I peered over Sabrina’s wings at the Pearly Gates sign. “I don’t remember what happened before I got here. Am I really dead?”

  “You're an unusual case. Most children remember how they passed.” Sabrina patted my hand gently. “We find some teens need extra guidance. Things will be clearer after you attend orientation.”

  Ugh. Sabrina was treating me like a kid. “Wait a sec. I’m almost eighteen. Don’t I qualify for Adult Heaven?”

  She stuffed back a laugh. “It’s called Senior Heaven. You need to be twenty-one.”

  “Okay. So is this a stepping-stone to Senior Heaven? Are there only kids and teens here? What about dogs?”

  Sabrina smiled the way Grandma Allen always did when I asked too many questions. A bad habit I’d had ever since I learned to talk. The smile quickly faded when a silver disc the size of a large trash can lid darted out from between the clouds. A little man with a shaved h
ead and a ridiculous handlebar mustache emerged from the disc. He pointed a tiny finger at me. “Miss Taylor Anderson. You need to stop talking and proceed to orientation. Understood?”

  I hunched my shoulders just like I always did in the principal’s office. Yet questions still flooded my mind. “I don’t understand…”

  The man on the disc held up his tiny hand like a stop sign. My mouth closed tight. How could I be intimidated by something so small?

  He smirked. “Enjoy your stay…while it lasts.”

  What the heck did that mean? So many questions and no answers—for now. I’d figure things out. Always did.

  The angel gave my hand a squeeze. “You’re strong. I like that about you.”

  She read my mind again.

  Sabrina led me around a corner and onto a stately boulevard. We ran into a group of equally dazed and confused kids dressed in everything from jeans and T-shirts to Halloween costumes, to Taco Hut uniforms. I searched wildly for any sign of Ryan’s tousled blond hair and crooked smile. Nothing. Strange, just like me, the kids showed no signs of how they died. Not a drop of blood on anyone. At least the dream I was having could be rated PG.

  Funny, I’d expected to be given some regulation gossamer robe. Instead, I still wore my short black leather skirt and matching top with its plunging neckline. Must have been out with my boy-crazy best friend Julie. Had I known my day would end in Heaven, I would have picked a different outfit.

  My wrist felt naked. The woven leather bracelet I wore to hide my lopsided birthmark must have fallen off somewhere. More proof. I’d never let that happen in real life.

  A girl dressed in a Catholic school uniform glared at my outfit. She pointed at my wrist. “Hey, ginger girl, what’s up with the gross tattoo?”

  What kind of Heaven had I conjured up? Instinctively I hid my arm behind my back. “I see the nuns forgot to teach you not to talk to strangers.”

  She sneered at me.

  Sabrina walked over to the schoolgirl. “Keep that up and you’ll end up with horns.”

  The girl’s face turned white as she pushed past Sabrina and ran. Overhead, the storm clouds vanished and a group of angels flew in formation. They fluttered in all directions and spelled out the word Welcome across the faded blue sky.

  “Wow, that’s amazing. They must practice for hours.” I rubbed my eyes. Behind the heavenly display, I sensed a bit of a horror show.

  “Actually, they usually suck. The squad is made up of new angels learning to fly.” She smiled. “You caught them on a good day.”

  Now I knew I’d dreamt up the whole thing. Of all the things I’d ever read about Heaven, nobody said it was funny. My adrenalin kicked in to hyper drive. I needed to figure out how to survive in this dream until I woke up. Sabrina might be my ticket out of here, so I better do what she said. I followed behind her until she stopped in front of a huge marble neo-classical building. An orange neon sign above the majestic columns read: Jump Start Your New Life. She led me to a gilded door. “Go right in. Your afterlife coach is waiting for you.”

  “What? Who…”

  Sabrina just smiled, pumped her wings and disappeared into the sky. I peeked through the massive half-open paneled door. The walls were lined with paintings of angels flying through different heavenly settings. Then I turned the corner and couldn’t believe my eyes. Mrs. Schwartz, my horrifying fifth grade teacher, sat behind a desk the size of a Volkswagen. I must have turned the corner and wound up in Hell. I shouldn’t have stolen that fabulous black lace skirt from Macy’s last summer.

  My stomach churned as I stared at my grade school nemesis. Strange. Why would I want to face Schwartz again in a dream? Except, there she sat, ramrod straight in a velvet throne chair, sorting through a stack of papers. She still wore the same ratted out blond hairdo the class nicknamed “Helmet.”

  My former teacher caught me peering through the door. “Stop gawking, Taylor. Get in here now.” She gestured for me to sit in a swan-backed chair in front of the desk.

  Still stunned, and barely able to move, I managed to keep my skirt at a decent length as I sat down. I couldn’t believe Schwartz was wearing her favorite retro 80s bright purple power suit with linebacker shoulder pads. The kids lovingly used to call it “Grape Hurl.”

  She cleared her throat, giving me a familiar chill. “Well, I wish I could say I didn’t expect to see you for at least twenty years, but I knew your life would be short.”

  “I’m not dead. I’m dreaming!”

  More like a nightmare with Schwartz as the star.

  The Helmet tilted forward as Schwartz snorted. “Really? No buzzing or weakness in your legs?”

  My legs seemed okay. My ears were another story. A whole colony of whispering bees flew around in my head. I didn’t like where this conversation was going. I couldn’t be dead. That would mean I’d never get any more kisses from my beautiful collie Lucy. “I feel fine. Plus I don’t have any blood or bruising.”

  “Everyone here looks the same as they did the day they died. Before the fatal moment, of course.”

  “Of course,” I repeated. Schwartz always hated it when I parroted her words.

  She thrust back her linebacker shoulders. “Nice try. Are you ready to start taking responsibility for your actions?”

  My suspicions were confirmed. I’d moved into Hell—one hell of a nightmare.

  Schwartz shuffled papers on the desk like a veteran poker player. “We’ll have time to go over your bad decisions in our upcoming sessions.”

  I closed my eyes and tried to change the dream to a trip to Disney World. Nothing. I let out a deep sigh that caused a major wardrobe malfunction.

  “Young lady.” Schwartz jumped to her feet and almost lost her wide-rimmed red glasses. “Your attire is totally inappropriate.”

  She waved her pointer and a shimmering light floated around me. My sexy top vanished. It was replaced with a XXL dull grey T-shirt, so big it almost covered my skirt.

  “There, now we can get down to business.” Schwartz snapped her fingers and a paper appeared. “Look over this contract, and if you agree, we can get started.”

  I stared at the paper, faced with the smallest type I’d ever seen. Tracing my finger around my lopsided birthmark, I formed invisible Saturn-like rings. Usually thinking of my favorite planet helped calm me. Didn’t seem to work in this dream.

  My former teacher hovered over my shoulder and handed me a magnifying glass so I could read the microscopic type. “You, the undersigned, will follow all instructions and complete every test so you can move on to the final level, Senior Heaven. If you do not complete the tasks to your coach’s satisfaction, you will become your worst nightmare for eternity. By signing this paper, you agree to have Mrs. Schwartz as your afterlife coach.”

  Wait a sec. If this is a dream, then I can finally grow a backbone and tell Schwartz off. I threw the contract down in disgust. “I’m not signing. This can’t be real.”

  The familiar scowl returned to Schwartz’s plump face. “You are not dreaming. This is your one and only chance to avoid an unpleasant end.”

  “Back to your old scare tactics, eh, Mrs. Schwartz? Isn’t there an Angel Appeals Court?”

  The Helmet listed forward as she hovered over the edge of the desk. “No. You either accept me as your afterlife coach for the next two weeks or end up as your worst nightmare. Simple as that.”

  Two weeks with Schwartz was like an eternity. Funny, I couldn’t think of my worst nightmare—I’d had so many. Although, this one was quickly shooting to the top of the list. My parents always thought it was the time I almost had my leg amputated by a vending machine. Who knew kicking the machine to free a stuck bag of chips could be so dangerous? After I recovered, my friends christened me “The Cat.” Another confirmation this was a dream. I’d only blown through seven of my lives.

  I decided to push the dream version of Schwartz’s buttons. I put my hand to my forehead. “Sorry. I don’t have a worst nightmare. My life’s been pretty
horrifying with all the accidents.”

  Schwartz cleared her throat. “I see you haven’t lost your passion for the dramatic.”

  “Nope. Just like your passion for ridiculous hairstyles.”

  She stroked the Helmet. “Insults will get you nowhere. But, if you work hard, I promise you will be rewarded. Not only with the answers to your questions, but you’ll earn the chance to move forward to Senior Heaven. It’s such a beautiful place. Worth all the studying and tests.”

  What am I doing? If I don’t fight the dream, maybe it would end faster. “No problemo. You know me. I love hard work.”

  “Good.” She sucked in a breath. “Now, it’s mandatory you remember your last moments. Don’t worry. I’m certain after a few sessions in my capable hands I’ll get you on track.”

  “What if I don’t pass?”

  “Not an option.” She turned toward her desk. “You’re my last student. I’m ready to retire.”

  “So that means I’ll have to remember my death?”

  “Yes, but the reward is far greater than the pain.”

  Goose bumps formed on my arms. Pain? Could I have been murdered? Stop freaking out. This was just a dream. “Sorry, Mrs. Schwartz, I’m still not convinced.” I pushed away a nagging thought I might be experiencing the first stage of grief—denial.

  She walked over to her desk. A large glass jar full of green goo popped up out of nowhere. She reached her hand into the jar and came up with a dripping khaki-colored spongy mess. “Fine. If you’ve made up your mind, there’s nothing I can do but move on.” She shoved the disgusting blob inches from my face. “Welcome to your worst nightmare.”

  I shrunk away from the slimy mess dripping all over the floor.

  Schwartz stood with way too big a grin on her face. “You chose the fate. How many times during your life did you joke about reincarnation? I’m your afterlife coach and I pick what you come back as. I choose pond scum. It’s emotionless, like you.”