Call Me Grim (12 page)

“So, what are you doing here so early?” he says.

“Early? You knew I was coming here?”

“Of course. Did you make your decision?”

“Don’t you know?” I cross my arms over my chest. “Isn’t mindreading one of your superpowers?”

“No. Knowing where people will be when they die is my job, Libbi.” He doesn’t actually roll his eyes, but he sounds like he wants to. “If you continue on this path, you’ll be at this bridge when it’s your time.”

“Really?” I say to him, and then mumble under my breath, “But I wanted to be at Foster’s when I die. Death by chocolate.”

“Well, Foster’s is where you were going to be, until a few minutes ago. Something changed.” He raises his eyebrows. “Did you make your decision?”

“Actually.” I bite my lower lip. “I have a few questions first.”

“Okay,” he says. “Shoot.”

“At school yesterday, you said Mrs. Lutz’s soul is broken. What’s wrong with her?”

Aaron doesn’t answer. He doesn’t move. He just watches me with his hands on his hips, like some closed-lipped pirate.

“Well?”

“That’s a lesson for another day,” he finally says. “If you take the job.”

“Well, I’m not taking the job without an answer.”

“Why do you want to know?” He sounds amiable, but he still hasn’t moved. If not for his lips, he could be a statue.

I draw in a deep breath. My initial tactic isn’t working. I should stop trying to bully the information out of him and tell him the truth. Maybe he’ll take pity on me.

“Look, my best friend has a crack in his face like Mrs. Lutz has. Except his is much blacker and thicker and the stuff inside of it looks like it’s, I don’t know”—I shudder—“alive.”

“Oh,” Aaron mutters. “I get it.” His eyes shift down to my feet.

“He didn’t have that thing yesterday. What does it mean, Aaron? How are Kyle and Mrs. Lutz broken?”

Aaron finally moves. He drops his hands from his hips and turns toward the tree I used to peek over the edge of the cliff.

“Margie Lutz is marked because she helped someone she shouldn’t have helped. She didn’t know what she was doing at the time, which is why I think her mark is faint. Hopefully, it won’t affect her too much, in the end.” He turns back to me and his eyes shimmer in the sunlight. “As for Kyle, I don’t know why he’s marked. He hasn’t done anything yet.”

“Yet? Kyle’s mark is showing something that hasn’t happened?”

“Yes.” Aaron glances at the bridge. “If he’d done it already, we would know.”

“What? We would know what?” My nails dig into my palms, but I ignore the painful pinch.

“If he altered the plan.”

“Aaron, you’re talking in circles and pissing me off.”

“All right, I’ll explain.” He paces in front of me, his jaw set with determination. “There’s a Death Plan, sort of like a schedule. The dimming of the soul tells us a person is reaching their scheduled time of death.”

“I already know that,” I interrupt, and he rolls his eyes.

“Will you just listen?” He gives me a cold glance before he continues. “But people have free will. Free will means you never know for sure what choices a person will make. And sometimes they choose to change the Death Plan.”

“Wait, what do you mean? Do you mean murder?”

“Yes.” Aaron meets my eyes briefly and continues to walk and talk. “But not accidental deaths. A guy who accidentally runs over a girl with his truck doesn’t count as a murderer. That’s a scheduled death. A person must willingly cause an unscheduled death to get a mark. The more directly responsible they are for the death, the wider and blacker the mark.”

“But you said Kyle’s mark shows something that hasn’t happened yet. How can he be marked for something he hasn’t even done?”

“I don’t know how it works, exactly, but sometimes the mark shows up before a person has done anything. Sometimes, I think, before
they
know they’re going to do something.” Aaron shrugs. “It comes in handy. I can feel when a mark appears, and I know I need to keep an eye on that person, so I’m there when they do it.”

“And by ‘do it,’ you mean murder someone.”

Aaron nods.

I replay the angry conversation I had with Kyle in my mind. I remember the way he beat his drumstick against his thigh and how he smacked the stop sign. But what I mostly remember is that black, boiling sludge that bubbled in the crack in his soul. That stuff looked evil, but was it evil enough to murder someone?

That can’t be right. Kyle wouldn’t hurt anyone. Sure, he beats and smacks things; he’s a drummer. But of the three of us, he’s always been the calm one, the cool contrast to Haley’s fiery personality. Aaron’s wrong. He has to be.

“You think Kyle’s going to kill someone?” Even as a question, the words sound wrong. They don’t belong together.

But Aaron nods again and my stomach clenches.

“He’s either going to kill someone else or himself,” he says.

Suicide. Now, that makes more sense. I can see Kyle hurting himself before I can see him hurting someone else, though I can’t imagine what would bring him to do that either.

“So what does it mean when someone gets marked?” I say. “What happens to them?”

“I don’t know what happens when they leave me, but I can guess it isn’t good.” Aaron shivers. He shakes his head, and even though the sun streams through the clearing rainclouds, his eyes grow dark. “I know a marked person doesn’t see me as a lost relative or friend when I come for them, no matter how hard I try. They see me as the traditional Grim Reaper. Black hood, sickle—you know, the works.”

The works. That can’t be good at all. The Grim-Reaper-Aaron from my nightmare comes to mind so forcefully I can almost see the terrifying image superimposed over the real Aaron’s body. Cold, skeletal fingers dripping with gore. Face hidden by a black, tattered shroud.

A person forced to see that demon couldn’t possibly be headed to the Pearly Gates.

“So they go to Hell?” My damp shirt drips rainwater as I nervously twist the hem.

“I hope not.” Aaron’s voice is soft and low. “But I don’t know. Not for sure.”

He may not want to admit it, but that’s what it sounds like to me. And someday, that’s what’s waiting for Kyle? For committing suicide? It doesn’t seem right.

“Do you appear as the Grim Reaper for suicides too?” I say a silent prayer that Aaron will say no. He has to say no. That can’t happen to Kyle. My best friend shouldn’t have to deal with that.

“Yes.” Aaron scowls at the ground at my feet and my stomach summersaults. “A suicide is an unscheduled death carried out by free will. I have no choice.”

“But that’s not fair.” I move toward him, my voice rising with every step. “A suicide isn’t hurting anyone but themselves. It’s an illness, not something that should be punished.”

“You don’t have to tell me.” Aaron backs up a step, his hands up in front of him. “You’re right. It’s not fair. But that’s the way it is. As much as I wish I could, I can’t change it any more than you can.”

“So that’s it then?” My hands fall to my sides. “Kyle might go to Hell, and there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“I told you, I don’t know what happens when they leave me.” Aaron sinks his hands into his pockets. “But he could avoid the question all together if he changes his mind.”

My heart leaps as I grasp desperately at the line Aaron has just thrown me.

“Does the mark go away if he changes his mind?”

“It has happened. That’s the beauty of free will.” He grins, and I let my breath out in a puff. Aaron must see the relief on my face, because he shakes his head slowly and says, “Not to bring you down or anything, but it doesn’t happen often. In forty years, I’ve only seen a mark heal twice.”

I don’t care if he’s only seen it heal twice. Twice is better than never. Twice means Kyle has a chance. And he has me. Now, I just need to make sure he changes his mind. But how can I do that if I decide to die in a few hours?

“So, was that it?” Aaron startles me. “Do you have any more questions?”

“Actually, I do.” I walk past him. I don’t want him to see my scheming eyes. “You said I would train with you for seven days, right? Learn how to use your powers and stuff.”

“Yes.”

“What if after the seven days, I decide I don’t want the job. Am I forced to take it?”

“No, but there are consequences.”

My stomach does a back flip. I might be able do this. If I work the system and train with Aaron, I could buy myself seven days to figure out Kyle’s mark and make sure he changes his mind. Then, when my training is over, I’ll tell Aaron “thanks, but no, thanks” and be on my way to the Great Beyond. Screw the consequences.

“Okay.” I face him. “I choose to tell you my answer after the training.”

“I’m sorry, Libbi,” he says, though I’m not convinced he truly is sorry. “It doesn’t work that way. I need to know your answer today.”

“Why? If I’m not forced to take the job, why do you need to know today?”

“Because I can’t train you if you don’t have the powers.”

“But I do. I see souls. I had the headache. Remember?”

“You have some of the powers, but not all of them.” He twists the ring on his thumb slowly. “And I can’t give them to you without a commitment. You have to be all in or the transfer won’t work.”

“And if I say I’m in, but don’t really mean it?”

“You die. Today. At 3:12, sharp. It’s not me you’re trying to fool, Libbi. You’d have to fool yourself. And if you change your mind after you’ve accepted the job—”

“Let me guess.” I drag my forefinger across my throat.

“Yeah. The very next time 3:12 p.m. rolls around. It’s automatic. There’s nothing you or I can do about it. But there’s something else.” He scratches his cheek. “You’d have to face Abaddon for backing out of your contract.”

“Why? What would changing my mind about being a Reaper do? I was already scheduled to die, and you’re already a Reaper. Nothing would change.”

“Yeah, but this is a serious job with a long-term commitment that includes a lot of training. That’s why I have to tell you what it’s like to be a Reaper before you take the job, so you can’t say you didn’t know. I guess Abaddon wants to make sure only serious people accept it. He doesn’t take kindly to his Reapers breaking their obligations.” Aaron’s face drains of color briefly, then he smiles and shrugs. “But you don’t have to accept the job, Libbi. Your friend will stay marked, but you can still die today, if you want. No consequences.”

My simple but brilliant plan shrivels.

I don’t want Aaron’s job. It’s horrible. Roaming the streets of this stupid town, year after year, a perpetual teenager, and never able to leave. Watching my family worry when I don’t come home then mourn when they decide I must be dead. And me, unable to explain, comfort, or help in anyway. Would they think I was murdered?

Of course, I’d use the seven extra days to make sure Kyle’s mark heals, but what if it comes back? What if Haley gets a mark? Or Mom? Or Max? I’d be aware of everything, but invisible. Silent. Always watching but never able to step in.

Then, to make it even more terrible, I’ll be there when each of them dies. Who wants that kind of life? Aaron may say it’s great, but he’s also the one trying to get out of it.

But I don’t want to die either. At least with the seven extra days, I can fix Kyle’s mark and have time to say good-bye to my friends and family properly.

Aaron says I have a choice, but both of my options suck. Why can’t I just live? Why isn’t that an option? I want to live. Why can’t I grow up, go to college, have a career and a family, and
live
?

Watery sobs shake my body. My knees buckle and I collapse at Aaron’s feet. I bury my face in my hands and let it out. All of the fear and worry and sadness that has built up inside of me since Aaron first saved my life pours out in a steady stream.

Aaron sits down in the grass beside me and places his hand over mine. I imagine a trail of blood trickling over the skin where he touches me, but I don’t pull away. Instead, I lean into him and rest my cheek against his shoulder. He wraps his arm around my waist and pulls my head to his chest. The sweet, earthy scent of him fills my nose and I inhale deeply. My shaky breaths match his pounding heart.

“Do you need more time to think?” he whispers into my hair. “You still have two hours, if you need it.”

I shake my head. No matter what he says, the decision is an illusion. I don’t have a choice. I never had a choice, because I’m dying either way.

Kyle needs me, and I need time. If signing up as the fourth horsewoman of the apocalypse buys me time, then hand me a scythe and call me Grim.

“No, I don’t need more time to think.” I lift my head and find his face. His eyes are calming now, but I don’t think Aaron’s using his relaxing power. I think it’s because my mind is set. I’ve made a choice.

“I’ll do it,” I say. “You have my word, one hundred percent.”

“Really?” Aaron squeezes my hand and tries to hide the smile I can still see in his eyes.

“Yeah,” I say. “Are you surprised?”

“I don’t know. With all the crying, I thought you were going to say you wanted to die.”

“Well…” I wipe the tears from my cheeks with my sleeve. “I guess I’m chock full of surprises. Aren’t I?”

Aaron chuckles and hugs me closer. It feels nice to have his arms around me, even if he’s the one causing me pain.

“I have one more question, Aaron,” I say when I’m sure the tears aren’t going to overwhelm me again.

“Yes?”

“Is it true? Did you really kill someone?”

A few moments pass and I think he’s not going to answer. Then he sighs and his breath tickles my forehead.

“Would my answer change your mind?” His voice is strained, exhausted.

“No. I just want to know.” I’m surprised. I actually mean that.

His arms tighten around me, and he breathes in deep and lets it out slowly.

“It’s true,” he whispers into my hair. “I killed two people.”

I pull back from his chest and search his overly bright soul for the remnants of a black fissure. There is none. He’s as clean as Max.

How can that be? He just said murderers get marked. How can Kyle be marked for something he hasn’t even done yet, when Aaron admits to murdering two people and he’s mark-free?