But in the end, I choose the one person who saved me. It’s my turn to save her.
“Jill Gaumond, my mother.”
Chapter 62
Interstate 10, Southern California
September, Year 27 of the Horsemen
A muscle in Death’s jaw flexes. He turns on his heel and walks away from me, his boots crunching over the dead shrubbery. I stare after him, wondering if he’s unwilling to do this after all.
“Are you coming or not?” he calls over his shoulder.
Oh.
I follow him, feeling more and more uneasy with every step I take. There’s nothing out here—just miles and miles of desert brush and lonely hills. I glance around me, but all is as it always is.
Thanatos stops and holds a hand out towards the ground. He still looks angry, and the sight unnerves me. I step up next to him, unsure what’s about to happen.
Then I sense it.
My skin pricks as a cool breeze sweeps through, rustling the nearby shrubs. At our feet dirt begins to rise, creating a human-sized mound. Dirt sloughs off the mound, and the hairs along my arms rise as, out of the earth itself, the body takes shape. Hips and legs and shoulders, breasts and fingers and toes and a face.
A face.
I barely have time to care that the woman is naked before I fall to my knees next to her, a sob slipping from my lips. I can’t look away from that face—my mother’s face. One I was sure I would never see again.
For a moment, she lays there, unmoving.
Death glances over at me, his lips pressed together grimly.
And then—
My mother’s chest rises as she takes in a deep breath, and then her eyes flutter open.
“Mom.” My voice breaks, and then I’m helping her sit up, the last of the dirt slipping from her body as I do so.
I should probably give her a second, but just seeing her eyes blink and her body move—seeing her alive—I can’t help but do the one thing I’ve wanted to do since I lost her.
I hug her tightly to me.
“I love you,” I whisper. I barely manage to get the words out before I’m crying. “I’ve been so lost without you.” So, so lost. All of my long-held strength comes crashing down; I’m just a kid who needs her mom.
I feel the light, almost confused press of her fingertips against my arm. Then, next to my ear, my mom lets out a wail. The sound raises the hairs at the back of my neck.
It trails off into a whimper.
“Wh—what is this?” she whispers.
I pull away in time to see her looking at her arms and hands with spooked eyes.
A keening sound works its way up her throat. “What’s happening? Why am I here?” She reaches for her hair, then pulls on it, like she’s considering ripping it out.
“Mom,” I say, glancing frantically at Death, but he’s standing stiffly off to the side. “Mom,” I say again. I catch her hands and squeeze tightly. “It’s me, your daughter.”
To Thanatos, I say, “Can you get her a blanket?”
Without responding, he turns on his heel and heads over to his horse.
My mom’s frightened, wild eyes shift to me.
She sucks in a breath. “Lazarus.”
I press my lips together to hold back another sob, and then I’m nodding, even as tears slip down my face.
“What is going on … ?” Her words trail off into another moan, and my mom’s eyes unfocus. She pinches them shut, shaking her head as she starts rocking back and forth.
“Mom—Mom.” I’m trying not to panic, but I feel my anxiety rising. She seems so distressed. “It’s okay, I’m here.” I practically choke on the words. Just like that, I force myself to gather together my strength once more.
Behind me, I can hear Death’s boots crunching over the parched shrubs as he makes his way to us.
Wordlessly he steps up to my side, handing me a blanket.
“Thank you,” I murmur, shaking it out and wrapping it around my mother.
My mom doesn’t seem to notice. She’s still rocking back and forth, a distant, haunted look in her eyes. As I watch, she brings a hand up to her face and begins to sob.
My heart plummets as I stare at her, feeling both helpless and terrified.
I glance over my shoulder at Death. “Why is she acting like this?” I ask, my voice high and panicked.
“I already told you why,” Death says, his jaw clenched and his eyes hard. “Your mother doesn’t belong here. She knows it, I know it. It is only you, Lazarus, who cannot accept that the dead do not wish to return to life.”
His words are like a physical blow.