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Authors: S. P. Cloward

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BOOK: AfterLife
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Wes didn’t want to see any images the girl may have had in
her mind and the focus he placed on not receiving any seemed to work. He saw
nothing but the same nothing he had seen when he and Emily had synced earlier
that night. But suddenly, the girl was there looking at him, and she didn’t
look anything like the drunk girl he had in the car. She was much shorter and
heavier, and her face was covered with pimples. This must be the way she sees
herself, he thought.

Just as with the shorter connection earlier, Wes could feel
the energy transferring to him from their connection, but he could also feel
how much quicker this deep connection was taking time off the end of her life.
He didn’t want to see how much he could take before he would feel a major
change in the amount she held. The picture of the emptying water bottle Emily
had referred to came to mind. Wes moved back from the girl’s energy and broke
the connection.

The girl passed out and collapsed into Wes’s lap. He
straightened her up in her seat. He’d seen the way she saw herself. Stealing
life from her made him feel worse than he had when he’d grazed off the girl in
the bar. He realized she was stuck in an emotional time warp from her
childhood, and he could almost relate to her situation. Hadn’t his own time
warp contributed to the disturbing emotional state he’d been in when he’d died?
He wanted to help her, but he didn’t know how. Instead he gave her a few quick
shakes and she came to again.

“You look tired,” Wes said. “Let me take you back to your
friends.”

Embarrassed, the girl looked down at her clothes to confirm
that nothing had happened between them, and nodded. She probably thinks she
passed out, Wes thought. After helping her back inside to her friends, Wes
tapped Emily on the shoulder and exited the bar.

“I watched from a distance but I saw you do it,” Emily said
quietly as she collected the keys from Wes. “I think you did great tonight, I
really do.”

“It is what it is, I guess,” Wes said as he sat down in the
passenger seat where the girl had just been sitting.

Neither of them spoke for the next few minutes as Emily
readjusted the seat and pulled out of the parking lot back onto the narrow road
that would take them back to the Hub. They were both quiet for a long time. “I
lied,” Emily finally said. Her quietly spoken comment disrupted Wes’s thoughts
about the evening. “It never really gets easier. I remember the face of every
person I’ve taken life from.”

Wes knew Emily was telling the truth. He could sense the
same sadness he had felt in her when they were talking on the beach during
their first meeting. Now that they were away from the bar, the forced gaiety
was gone. She seemed different. She made feeding look so easy that Wes never
imagined how much it hurt her to do it. He still wouldn’t have if she hadn’t
said anything.

Neither of them spoke during the drive back to the Hub. Wes
felt he was getting to know the real Emily. They had reached an unspoken
understanding; there was nothing left to say. This was his world now and from
this night on, he would be feeding on antemorts to survive.

It was late when they arrived at the Hub. Emily pulled the
Camaro into its parking space in the underground parking garage and took the
keys from the ignition. “So Wes,” she said, looking over to where he was still
drifting through his thoughts, “that was all the training we needed to cover
tonight.”

Wes nodded as if he understood, but he didn’t. Before he
died, a night with alcohol usually ended with him crashing fully clothed
because he was too intoxicated to change. He realized his past behavior had set
him on a path of destruction that had led to tonight. What do you do if you
can’t drink or sleep? “What else is there to do if we’re not going to be
training? I’m not exactly tired.”

“No, not physically, that’s for sure.” Emily opened her door
and stepped out of the car. “But you still need to let your mind rest.”

Wes trailed after Emily as she made her way through the
parking garage back to the box of car keys by the door into the Hub. “How do I
do that?” he asked as he caught up to her.

“Go to your sanctuary. Go to Disney World.” She put the
Camaro keys on their hook in the box, and then turned to Wes. “When an antemort
sleeps, a lot takes place that isn’t intended for the recuperation of the
physical body. Much of sleep rejuvenation takes place in the mind and the
connection between the mind and the physical brain. Biologically, antemorts
fall asleep when this process takes place. You may not need to sleep in a
physical sense, but you still need periods of time in which your mind rests.
Also, it’s a great way to conserve energy. Your focus is turned inwardly to the
mind and not on the mind-body connection.”

“I’m not sure I understand.” Wes followed behind Emily who
was making her way down the corridor toward the Den.

Emily turned back to Wes before she passed through the doors
to the Den. “Wes, you will. All you have to do is meditate. You do know what
that means, don’t you?” She smiled at Wes with an “it’s simple, dummy” lift of
the eyebrows, then pushed through the doors into the Den.

Wes thought he understood what Emily was telling him. All he
needed to do was retreat back into his mind. He could do that; he’d been doing
it for years. He pushed through the door into the Den. Emily was collecting her
crochet bag from the table where she’d left it next to one of the couches. “How
long do I meditate?”

“I’ll come get you when it’s time to get back to work,”
Emily said as she walked up to Wes. “You were really great tonight. I know it
was hard for you, but once you’ve made it through the training process and we
can show you the real purpose of AfterLife, you’ll feel better about having to
feed.” She gave Wes an understanding smile, and then pulled his face down to
kiss him on the forehead for the second time that evening. “Okay, little
brother, you go rest and I’ll come for you in the morning.”

Wes lay on the cot in his room. There was no light except
for a thin strip showing under the bottom of the door. He couldn’t stop
thinking about the girl he’d fed on in the car. He wished he could do something
for her.

Still thinking about her, he closed his eyes, slipped into a
state of meditation, and found himself walking through the familiar black
nothingness. Then he saw her. She sat on a wooden bench in the nothingness; she
was leaning forward, her face in her hands, and she was crying. She looked the
way she saw herself. Wes approached the bench and sat down next to her.

“Why are you crying?”

The girl seemed startled and quickly wiped the tears from
her face. It was the same blemished face Wes had seen when he synced with her
at the bar earlier that night. Away from her mind, he saw her as a pretty girl;
she merely saw herself as unattractive. If this was his mental projection of
her, why did she look the way she saw herself? It didn’t matter. He’d let his
mind play this out.

She quickly wiped her face and composed herself. “What are
you doing here?”

Since this appeared to be a meditative exercise to ease his
conscience, Wes figured he might as well work through it. “I just want to help
you see how you really look to others,” Wes said. Then for lack of something
better to say he added, “I’m Wes.” He extended his hand.

The girl took it after a second of hesitation. “Vanessa.”

“We met tonight. I don’t know if you remember.” Wes was
finding the conversation a little awkward, but apparently he had a great talent
for creating people in his mind. Talking to the girl was just like talking to a
real person. He had no idea what she was going to say next. It was as if he
really was synced with her again, but this time without looking in her eyes,
and without taking any life energy from her. It had to be just in his mind.

“I remember. You were the guy that didn’t put out.”

“Hey,” Wes said defensively, “I was being a gentleman.” He
looked away from Vanessa’s confused glare. “Anyway, I got what I was looking
for even if you didn’t.”

“What does that even mean?” She was guarded.

This was not going well. He didn’t know what he’d expected,
but for a conversation taking place in his imagination, he sure was having
trouble controlling it. “Look, I’m not here to attack you. I came to try…” he
trailed off. What did he want to say to her? He didn’t think he was trying to
feel less guilty about taking her life force; it was more than that. Guilt is
what he felt about the first girl he’d grazed from. That girl saw a future for
herself and his feeding would make that future shorter, even if it was only by
a day.

Vanessa was different. She didn’t see herself as others saw
her, and she didn’t see a future. She only saw the present, a miserable,
pathetic day-to-day existence without expectations because she was still stuck
in a miserable past. He knew from experience that an inability to visualize a
future can cause someone to make poor choices in the present. No, it wasn’t
guilt that made him feel bad, it was her overwhelming despair. If that was
caused by the inaccurate way she saw herself, maybe she would be more
optimistic and confident if she had a more realistic view of how she looked to
others.

Wes started again, “I came here to do this.” He created a
full-length mirror in his mind and it appeared in front of the bench where they
were sitting. “Go look into the mirror.”

Wes couldn’t control her, but he could control what appeared
in the mirror. Vanessa rolled her eyes but stood up and walked to it. As she
approached the mirror, he created a reflection of her as he’d seen her. She
stared at herself for a few minutes and didn’t say anything.

“I want to show you what you really look like. How I saw
you. How others see you. You’re beautiful. I thought you should know.”

Her hands reached out to the mirror and gently touched it.
The reflection was smiling because that’s what Wes created it to do. He didn’t
know what Vanessa’s reaction was since her back was to him. After another
minute of silence, he stood up and walked over to where she was standing and
placed his hands on her shoulders as he stood next to her.

“You’re beautiful,” he repeated. “I thought you should know
that, and I think you should treat yourself that way, too.” Wes turned and
began to walk away. After a few steps, he heard Vanessa whisper, “Thank you.”

He turned, Vanessa was facing him. Her appearance was no
longer the one she made up of herself but now matched the one in the mirror.
“You’re welcome. Don’t forget it.” He turned back and walked away from the
bench, the mirror, and Vanessa.

 

Chapter 8

 

I
t was just
after one o’clock in the morning as Andre found a seat on the Red Line train
headed south. There was no one else on the platform and the car he entered
didn’t have any other passengers. As the “doors closing” announcement was made,
a couple stepped onto the train and moved to the opposite end of the car. At
least they had chosen a seat far away from him, Andre thought. After the night
he’d had at work, the only thing he wanted was a little peace.

As the train started moving, Andre pulled out his earphones
and put them in his ears. He needed a little music for the commute home. The
couple at the other end of the car started making out. Andre glanced at them
and then away.

Andre didn’t have anyone to make out with. His wife had left
him on the heels of their daughter’s death a few months earlier. She said she
couldn’t live in the darkness with him anymore. He’d suffered from depression
his entire life, but for those few years after he’d met his wife and later
after the birth of their little girl, he’d known what joy was. The driver of
that hit-and-run had not only killed his little girl, he’d killed Andre’s
family and his happiness. The depression was back and darker than ever. He no
longer cried at the thought of his little girl lying in the hospital after
she’d been hit by a car. If he did, he would be crying constantly.

Working late at night wasn’t a choice but a necessity. He’d
taken a second job after his daughter’s death to pay the hospital bills. She
was gone, but the cost of trying to save her was not. Someone had to pay, and
as it turned out, that someone was him. It was a daily reminder that he’d lost
everything. His life would never be good again.

Andre listened to his music as the couple continued kissing
in the back of the car. They were really going at it. It was disgusting
actually, and he had to turn up the volume to keep from hearing the slurping
sounds of their lips.

The train continued down the track, stopping at a few
stations along the way. Andre waited for the couple to get off at one of the
stops. After passing Chinatown, he figured the two of them must be pretty
drunk. A few stops later, he exited the train. It was a clear, cold night. One
of the first cold fronts of the season had passed through the day before,
bringing the feeling of autumn with it.

The street was empty as Andre made his way from the station
to his apartment. He now lived in the basement of a house that had been split
into three separate units. His was a very small studio-type room in the
basement. The space included a living room, dining room, kitchen, and shower
all in one room. The other two units were larger with one on each floor above
his. The only good thing about his space was that the toilet wasn’t included in
the all-in-the-open design. It was in a small closet between the kitchen and
the shower. None of that mattered to Andre though. It wasn’t really home, no
one ever visited, and after a long day of working two jobs he didn’t care where
he crashed.

About a block from the station, Andre noticed the couple
from the train walking behind him on the opposite side of the street. He could
hear them talking. He’d taken out his earphones, but he couldn’t decipher any
distinct words. The girl laughed obnoxiously every few sentences.

BOOK: AfterLife
6.12Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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