Becoming Death (19 page)

I cursed Death with every swear word in my vocabulary on the way to the hospital. Although, he wasn’t with me, I could feel him watching me. He’d be pleased with my displeasure at my current task. Although I’d only met Death once, I pictured someone like Riga Tony—a fat, ugly blob of a man with cracked yellow teeth and blotchy skin—cackling at me. He’d ask if I was ready for a real challenge and I’d hang my head in shame.

I didn’t have a description of what Amy Peterson looked like, so I stood outside the doors of the hospital checking the name of every pregnant woman that passed me to see if they were Amy. Five minutes after I had started my search, a taxi pulled up and the driver rushed around to the passenger side door. A Hispanic woman with hair tied into a knot at the back of her head squeezed herself out of the taxi with the help of the driver. Once she was standing on her own, he abandoned her, climbing back into his cab.

She struggled to stay on her feet as she threw a wad of cash into his window. “You’re lucky I didn’t give birth in your backseat. Learn how to use the gas petal.”

He growled but pulled away without another word.

I ran forwards as I saw her knees buckle under the pain. “Are you alright?”

“This baby is coming, right now. What are you staring at? Get over here and help me inside.” She winced in pain, closing her eyes. She held onto the side of a pillar.

“I—of course, let me help you,” I said, wrapping her arm around my shoulder and walking slowly towards the entrance. “What’s your name?”

“Amy.”

Bingo. I had the right pregnant lady.

“Yours?” She leaned against me as we entered the hospital.

“Molly.”

I knew had to mark that baby as quickly as possible. Amy could deliver at any minute, plus it would be nearly impossible to get anywhere near her once she had checked into the hospital. I thought about reaching out and groping this woman’s stomach to get this over with quickly but resisted the urge.

I spotted an empty wheelchair and guided her towards it. “Sit down.”

Her screams were unintelligent now. Lowering her into the wheelchair, I noticed her shirt had ridden to reveal a thin strip of bare skin along her stomach. I took a moment to roll up my sleeves before I leaned down in front of her. It was now or never. What choice did I have?

“I’m going to get a nurse and we’re going to get her out of you,” I said as I patted her stomach. I felt myself shiver as I took the soul of the baby. Unlike previous occasions, there were no memories. My face fell. This was wrong, so wrong.

“Molly, I’m scared, please don’t leave me,” she said, gripping my wrist.

I shook her grip away. “I need to find a nurse. They’ll be able to help.”

“Please hurry. I think something is wrong,’ Amy muttered, running a hand over her stomach.

My eyes softened as I turned away from her and ran down the hall to find help. I was only gone about a minute but when we returned Amy was sat silently crying in the wheelchair. A trail of blood dripped down her leg. She held her stomach.

“Oh my,” the nurse said next to me. She took Amy’s hand.

“It just happened so fast. Why am I bleeding? Is the baby okay?” Amy asked, her voice cracking.

“We need to get you to a bed. You and your baby will be fine. Don’t worry.” The nurse said before pushing the wheelchair quickly down the hall.

I watched the trail of blood follow Amy’s wheelchair as it turned down the hall. Once again, I’d fulfilled my destiny.

Since becoming a mourner, I had been to more funerals than I could count but today’s had been the most disturbing. Lily Peterson hadn’t had a life. Her coffin was tiny and closed but next to it sat a picture of Lily when she had been born. The child’s skin was blue and her eyes were closed. She never had a chance.

I knew I shouldn’t be here. Lily’s mother could recognize me, but I stood at the back and used my obfuscation. Amy didn’t cry. Instead, she sat near the front silently holding a stuffed rabbit in her lap. She still seemed stunned by the events that had occurred earlier in the week, and I wished I knew the words to comfort her but that wasn’t my place.

My latest kill haunted my daily thoughts. A baby. This had to be the kind of test Ms. Winters had spoken about. A test of my loyalty to my role as a reaper. A test of how far I would push myself and the amount of humanity I’d give up to keep myself alive. I felt sick as I thought of my sister, how she would cope if she had bonded with her baby for months in the womb only to never be able to meet them or be part of their life.

It was official in my mind: Death was a monster hell-bent on bringing only misery to others. I didn’t want to be part of his plans anymore. I’d seen firsthand how my actions had affected the friends and family of each victim. I was sure this wasn’t just population control; he had to get some sort of sick sense of glee out of killing and destroying families.

My future looked bleak. I didn’t know how much longer I could keep up this role until I cracked. In our brief time together as a couple, being with Aaron and starting a family someday seemed like the most natural thing in the world. I wanted to be with him. Neither of us had said it yet but it was clear we loved each other. Someday when we were older, I wanted to have a family with him. I could picture it in my mind’s eye: Aaron holding a baby girl, like Lily, cooing at her and proud to be a father. A baby destined with a similar fate as mine, to be Death’s slave, to murder and feel constant guilt for their actions. I hugged my shoulders. It didn’t matter how perfect of a future I imagined, Death didn’t seem the type to just roll over and give me everything I wanted. I wanted to be finished following Death’s rules. I wanted to feel alive again.

As soon as I got into our apartment, I grabbed Aaron’s hand and dragged him towards our bedrooms.

“Mads, slow down. What’s going on?” he asked, following behind me.

I stopped and pushed him against the hallway wall. I hooked my arms around his neck and kissed him. “Life is short, but I’m starting to realize how much time I’ve wasted.”

“It wasn’t wasted. We just used it differently.”

I held a finger to his lips. “You’re special to me. I need you to know how much I care about you.”

He touched my cheek. “I feel it every time we’re together. The spark every time I touch you, hold you or kiss you.”

I took his hand again and led him the rest of the way to his bedroom. I crawled onto his bed and motioned for him to join me. He laid down across from me and we faced each other. I inched closer, burying my face in the warmth of his chest.

“I want to be with you,” I said, my voice shaky as I said the words.

He rubbed my arm. “Are you sure? We haven’t been together that long. I don’t want to pressure you into something we’re not ready for. We can always wait, try to make it more special.”

“I’m already nervous—that would make it worse. Plus I don’t want to build it up. It will just make us both nervous wrecks for weeks. I want our first time to be natural, to express how we both feel right now.” I kissed him again, deeper this time, more needy. For a few minutes, I wanted to be the old Madison again, not some kind of zombie reaper that fed off the life-force of others.

He stroked my face, his eyes shining. “Okay, if you want this we’ll do it, because I’ve always loved you.”

“Even when we were five?” I asked.

“Yeah, you were a cute kid,” he admitted.

“I knew there was a reason you always pulled my hair.”

“I wasn’t very smart then. I had to find a way to get your attention,” he said.

I smiled and his eyes linked with mine, thankful for this moment. “I love you too.”

We watched each other for a few moments, our breathing slowing, entwining. A heat between us grew as we both mentally prepared ourselves for what we were about to do.

“Do you have protection?” I asked. There was already one pregnant member the Clark family, no need for another. If Clarissa wasn’t sure she was ready for the responsibly of a baby, there was no way I was.

“Oh, yeah, of course.” He turned over and fumbled with the drawer next to him.

I sat up and removed my hair tie. My hair fell wildly around my face and I combed it through it with my fingers a few times.

Successful, Aaron turned back over to me holding a packet in his hand.

“Is this okay? I kind of wish I would have dressed up, made myself look nicer for you,” I said, looking down at my ratty black t-shirt and jeans.

He dropped the packet between us. “You’re beautiful, Mads. Just like I imagined you would be,” he told me, resting his fingers on my hips.

I blushed, laying back down across from him. So much for not being nervous. “So how do we start?”

He rubbed his palms together. “Why is this so difficult? I like you, I like this, but I feel like anything I do will mess this up.”

My face softened and I took his hand. It was sweaty but I didn’t care. “Why don’t you tell me how you imagined us together the other day and we can try to make it a reality?”

Aaron coughed and his voice broke as he said, “Mads, I don’t know if I can do that. We haven’t even started to kiss yet and I’m already feeling like I’m doing everything wrong.”

I kissed his cheek. “You haven’t. I think we just need to take this slowly and be honest with each other every step of the way.”

He smiled and pulled me into his arms.

I woke up hours later spooned against Aaron dressed in only in my t-shirt. I yanked the hem of the shirt down, trying to cover my thighs, before shifting to pull the blankets around us, cocooning us together. The sound of Aaron’s steady breathing in my ear was oddly comforting against the backdrop of death I was used to. I wasn’t alone anymore. I was loved. I ran my fingers over his hand, feeling the relief of being able to touch someone without the mark of death. I held his hand loosely, imagining our relationship in the future.

At first, all I could picture was all the stuff we already did on a daily basis, like lying on the sofa together watching TV, eating dinner together or just talking in bed while the other one listened. As I thought about it longer, lying together in front of the TV turned into making out on the sofa with the TV on in the background for noise; eating dinner became dinner at romantic restaurants complete with violins and roses; and talking in bed soon also turned into lovemaking.

I turned over. I couldn’t help myself from taking in the contours of my boyfriend’s body—something I never would have thought of doing a couple weeks earlier. I tiptoed my fingers across the bed before tracing the rise and fall of Aaron's side.

If Aaron had never kissed me, would our relationship have stayed stuck in friendship mode for the rest of our lives? I was hopeful, either way, we would have finally woken up one day twenty years from now and realized the perfect partner had been in front of us all along.

I couldn’t help myself from smiling as I watched his chest move up and down to confirm he was still alive. With my grim reaper touch, I would have to be more careful in the future. I didn’t need any more mishaps like Cindy. Lucky for Aaron, the only shivers I had felt last night hadn’t been confined to just my spine.