“Aw. You do like me. That’s sweet.” She laughed. “But I’m just a Reaper, Wallace. My job is to make sure you get to the ferryman. He’ll handle the rest. You’ll see. Once we get to him, it’ll be right as rain. Hugo tends to have that effect on people. He’ll explain everything before you cross, any of those pesky, lingering questions.”
“Cross,” Wallace said dully. “To … where?”
Mei cocked her head. “Why, to what’s next of course.”
“Heaven?” He blanched, a terrible thought piercing through the storm. “Hell?”
She shrugged. “Sure.”
“That doesn’t explain anything at all.”
She laughed. “I know, right? This is fun. I’m having fun. Aren’t you?”
No, he really wasn’t.
* * *
She didn’t hurry him. They stayed even as the sky began to streak in pinks and oranges, the March sun setting low toward the horizon. They stayed even as the promised bulldozer came, the woman operating it deftly with a cigarette jammed between her teeth, smoke pouring from her nose. The grave filled quicker than Wallace expected. The first stars were starting to appear by the time she finished, though they were faint given the light pollution from the city.
And that was it.
All that was left of Wallace Price was a mound of dirt and a body that was going to be nothing but worm food. It was a profoundly devastating experience. He hadn’t realized it would be. Strange, he thought to himself. How very strange.
He looked at Mei.
She smiled at him.
He said, “I…” He didn’t know how to finish.
She touched the back of his hand. “Yes, Wallace. It’s real.”
And wonder of all wonders, he believed her.
She said, “Would you like to meet Hugo?”
No. He wouldn’t. He wanted to run. He wanted to scream. He wanted to raise his fists toward the stars and rant and rave about the unfairness of it all. He had plans. He had goals. So much left to do, and now he’d never … he couldn’t …
He startled when a tear slipped down his cheek. “Do I have a choice?”
“In life? Always.”
“And in death?”
She shrugged. “It’s a little more … regimented. But it’s for your own good. I swear,” she added quickly. “There are reasons these things happen the way they do. Hugo will explain it all. He’s a great guy. You’ll see.”
That did not make him feel better.
But still, when she stood above him, holding her hand out, he only stared at it for a moment or two before taking it, allowing her to pull him up.
He turned his face toward the sky. He breathed in and out.
Mei said, “This is probably going to feel a little odd. But it’s a longer distance, so it’s to be expected. It’ll be over before you know it.”
But before he could react, she snapped again and everything exploded.
CHAPTER
3
Wallace was screaming when they landed on a paved road in the middle of a forest. The air was cold, but even as he continued to yell, no breath cloud formed in front of him. It didn’t make sense. How could he be cold when he was dead? Was he actually breathing, or … No. No. Focus. Focus on the here. Focus on the now. One thing at a time.
“Are you done?” Mei asked him.
He realized he was still screaming. He snapped his mouth closed, pain bright as he bit into his tongue. Which, of course, set him off again, because how the hell could he feel pain?
“No,” he muttered, backing away from Mei, thoughts jumbled in an infinite knot. “You can’t just—”
And then he was hit by a car.
Wait.
He should have been hit by a car. The car approached, the headlights bright. He managed to bring up his hands in time to block his face, only to have the car go through him. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the driver’s face pass inches from his own. He didn’t feel any of it.
The car continued down the road, the taillights flashing once before it rounded a corner and disappeared entirely.
He was frozen, hands extended in front of him, one leg raised, thigh pressed against his stomach.
Mei laughed loudly. “Oh, man. You should see the look on your face. Oh my god, it’s awesome.”
He gradually lowered his leg, half-convinced he’d fall right through the ground. He didn’t. It was solid beneath his feet. He couldn’t stop shaking. “How. What. Why. What. What?”
She wiped her eyes, still chuckling. “My bad. I should’ve warned you that could happen.” She shook her head. “It’s all good, though, right? I mean, how great is it that you can’t be hit by cars anymore?”
“That’s what you took away from this?” he asked incredulously.
“It’s a pretty big thing if you think about it.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” he snapped. “I don’t want to think about any of this!”
Inexplicably, she said, “If wishes were fishes, we’d all swim in riches.”
He stared after her as she started down the road. “That doesn’t explain anything!”
“Only because you’re being obstinate. Lighten up, man.”
He chased after her, not wanting to be left alone in the middle of nowhere. In the distance, he could see the lights of what looked like a small village. He didn’t recognize any of their surroundings, but she was talking a mile a minute, and he couldn’t get a word in edgewise.
“He doesn’t stand on ceremony or anything, so don’t worry about that. Don’t call him Mr. Freeman because he hates that. He’s Hugo to everyone, okay? And maybe stop scowling so much. Or not, it’s up to you. I won’t tell you how to be. He knows that you…” She coughed awkwardly. “Well, he knows how tricky these things can be, so don’t worry about it. Ask all the questions you need to. That’s what we’re here for.” And then, “Do you see it yet?”
He started to ask what the hell she was talking about, but then she nodded toward his chest. He looked down, a scowl forming.
The pithy retort on the tip of his tongue was replaced by a cry of horror.
There, protruding from his chest, was a curved piece of metal, almost like a fishhook the size of his hand. Silver in color, it glinted in the low light. It didn’t hurt, but it looked like it should have, given that the sharp tip appeared to be embedded into his sternum. Attached to the other end of the hook was a … cable? A thin band of what almost looked like plastic that flashed with a dull light. The cable stretched out on the road in front of them, leading away. He slapped against his chest, trying to knock the hook loose, but his hands passed right through it. The light from the cable intensified, and the hook vibrated warmly, filling him with an odd sense of relief that he hadn’t expected given that he’d been skewered. This feeling was, of course, tempered by the fact that he had been skewered.
“What is it?” he yelled, still slapping at his chest. “Get it off, get it off!”
“Nah,” Mei said, reaching over and grabbing his hands. “We really don’t want to do that. Trust me when I say it’s helping you. You need it. It’s not gonna hurt you. I can’t see it, but judging by your reaction, it’s the same as all the others. Don’t fuss with it. Hugo will explain, I promise.”