Read The Black Online

Authors: D. J. MacHale

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

The Black (47 page)

BOOK: The Black
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Marsh slid down the couch, reached for the picture, and picked it up. He wasn't even freaked
out by the impossible event. He had been through too much. He looked at it with a frown of confusion. Then his expression changed. I saw it. It was so clear. He sat back on the couch and I knew that he had finally accepted the truth, because he started to cry.

"He knows," Ree said sadly.

"Nice, Ralph."

"I'm going back," she said, abruptly standing up.

"You don't have to. You can go see Mr. Seaver too."

"I know. But right now it's just . . . it's breaking my heart."

She backed across the room, all the while staying focused on Marsh, who was staring at the photo.

"Thanks, Coop," she said.

"For what?"

"Closure."

I nodded in understanding, but things were far from closed. Not with Damon still on the loose. Ree left for the Black but I didn't follow. I had other plans. Call it morbid
fascination, but I wanted to watch the search for my body.

The searchers assembled throughout the night, but they didn't hit the lake until daybreak. At first it was cool seeing all the rescue vehicles and firefighters and volunteers swarming the lakeshore. Of course most of them were wasting their time. I knew where my body was. Still, knowing that so many people were out looking for me was good for the ego.

The fun didn't last. Seeing how tortured my mom and dad and sister were was tough. I knew what it was all leading to. By the time the rescue
boats made their way to Emerald Cove and the divers splashed in, I'd lost my stomach for the adventure. I didn't need to see the last chapter of my physical life play out. Besides, I didn't particularly want to see my body after it had been underwater for a week. I'm a good-looking guy. I preferred to hang on to that image.

I also bailed on the moment when the official news of the discovery was delivered to my family. I didn't want to see that moment of pain. That's an experience no person, or spirit, should have to live through. I'd want to assure them that everything was okay and being in the Black was kind of cool and that I'd see them all again someday, but I knew that was impossible. If I couldn't make it better, I didn't want to be there.

I didn't miss my funeral, though. No way. I wonder how many people show up for their own funeral. Probably
close to 100 percent. Why not? How many chances do you get to watch people gathered for the sole purpose of saying
nice things about you? That wasn't something I wanted to miss and I'm proud to say that my funeral was packed. SRO. Psyche.

The service was at the old church on the Ave. I was glad to see my entire football team there, wearing their team
jackets. Nice touch. Many other kids from Davis Gregory came along with teachers and relatives and friends of my
parents. Man, they could have sold tickets. And there wasn't a dry eye in the house. That sounds cold because I know how genuinely upset people were, but I'd be lying if I said it didn't make me feel pretty good to know that so many people cared. There's the ego thing again. Everybody should attend their own
funeral, unless they were jerks in life or something. That would be awkward.

The tough part was seeing my family. Mom and Dad were dazed. Sydney looked great, as usual. Leave it to her to find a black dress for a funeral that made it seem like she'd just come from a fashion shoot. I thought it was pretty cool how Marsh and Mr. Seaver sat with my family. I felt like I was part of the Seaver family and having them sit with mine made total sense.

I also didn't like seeing the casket. Having that thing sitting in the center aisle, covered with flowers, knowing my body was inside, was creepy. I could have done without that.

I was proud of Marsh. He's not comfortable speaking in front of people, let alone at a funeral, but he manned up and gave an awesome eulogy. I especially liked the way he ended it when he said: "Cooper taught me how to have fun. He made me laugh at things that most people wouldn't find funny. He taught me to take chances and not be afraid to fail. He taught me not to stress over details but to never accept second best. We visited Trouble Town more times than I can count, and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Does any of this sound familiar?"

Sydney actually smiled. That was a highlight.

Marsh continued, "I'm a better person for having known Cooper Foley, and that's something that won't change when memories fade. I'm going to make sure of it."

He then looked up to the ceiling, as if I was floating up
there, and called out, "And, Coop, wherever you are, I'll bet you're listening to all this and thinking you're something
special after hearing all the
nice things these people have said about you. Right? I don't blame you. And I want to say one more thing. I owe you."

I'm sure that everybody thought he was doing that for effect, but that wasn't so. He knew I was there.

"No problem, Ralph," I called back. He didn't hear it, but I'll bet he knew I said it.

I didn't want to go to the cemetery. That would have felt a little too final, especially the part about lowering the casket into the ground. Instead, I wanted to speak with somebody who could actually hear me and talk back. Who knows? Maybe that meant I was moving on and accepting my fate.

I left the Ave in the Light and went to
Ree's
vision in the Black. I wanted to tell her about how awesome Marsh was. I wanted her to know how proud I was of him, and how glad I was to have known him.

Arriving at her vision of Grand Central Terminal was eerie. Nothing had changed since the Watchers had opened up the portal into the Blood except that the black swords were gone. I figured they had been collected by the remaining Guardians and hoped they'd never have to use them. Seeing the terminal in such bad shape made me wonder if
Ree's
vision would ever return to normal. Could the terminal be repaired? Or would it be this way for as long as Ree was in the Black?

"Hello?" I called out. "Ree?"

No answer. I jogged down the stairs and made my way to the subway platform, thinking she would be in her rolling home. The subway car was there, but Ree wasn't. There were no Guardians around, either. I didn't think much of it. She could have been anywhere. For all I knew she was at the cemetery in the Light, paying her respects at my funeral. I
didn't
want to hang out until she got back. The place was giving me the creeps.

I left her vision and went to see Gramps. There was a lot we had to talk about and the sooner we got things out in the open, the sooner we could go back to being normal . . . or at least what passed for normal. When I stepped out of the colorful cloud onto his property, I sensed that something was off. The day was darker than usual. The sky was overcast. It was definitely his vision, though, because it was fall and the vegetable garden was still loaded with tomatoes. I ran onto the porch and knocked on the door.

"Gramps? It's me!"

No answer. I pushed the door open and stepped inside. "Hey! Gramps!"

Nothing. I stepped back out onto the porch to see the trees swaying in a stiff wind. I told myself that nothing was wrong. Gramps could have been at Meade's Pharmacy sucking down one of
Donna's
famous malteds. That's what I told myself, but I wasn't so sure I believed it. Was it possible that after admitting to the truth, Gramps had ended up moving along the Morpheus Road? It was possible. The question was, which way would he have gone?

I needed to see a familiar face, so I jumped off the porch and ran toward Maggie's house. The colored swirl appeared in front of me and by the time I vaulted the split rail fence between properties, I had left Gramps' vision and arrived in Maggie's.

The day didn't get any brighter. The last time I was there her vision had begun to warm up, along with Maggie's
future. Whatever changes had been made, were gone. The chilly wind blew through
the barren trees under dark gray skies, banging the barn door open against the outer wall.

"Maggie!" I called out.

I wasn't ready to panic, but I was close. Something was
wrong. Everyone I knew in the Black was missing. Their visions were intact but they'd changed. They felt dead.

There's no better word to describe it. The life of the visions was gone, and so were the people I cared about. Had they all moved on to another life? Did visions remain after a spirit moved on? That wasn't likely.

But something had definitely happened, and it wasn't good.

I wished there had been at least one black sword still lying around Grand Central because I would have gone back
for it. It would have given me a lot more confidence in doing what I had to do. The calm after the storm was over. I had to find answers and I knew where to get them.

I had to go to Damon's vision.

When I stepped through the colorful fog, I was ready for anything. I leaped out on full alert, expecting a fight.

What happened instead was . . . nothing. Literally nothing. I left Maggie's vision and landed in limbo. It was a sea of pure white. There was no up or down, east or west. I wasn't floating, but there was no ground beneath my feet. There was no sound, either. Or smell or sensation of any kind.

I thought I had taken a wrong turn. This wasn't Damon's vision. This was no vision at all. It was wrong and I feared it had something to do with the disappearance of Ree, Maggie, and Gramps.

I was about to leave and step into my own vision when I sensed movement. Turning quickly, I saw that I was no
longer alone. Standing ten yards from me was a Watcher. It was the older man who was in Grand Central Terminal at the end of the battle.

After I got over the surprise, an impossible thought hit me. "I hope this isn't heaven," I said. "Because if it is, I'd just as soon stick with the Black."

Another surprise came . . . when he answered.
"Help."

I thought for sure he said it, though his lips hadn't moved.

"Did you say something?" I asked.

"Help," he repeated. Again, no lip movement.

"Is that you?"

He nodded.

I didn't know if I'd heard him, or if he had somehow
jacked directly into my brain, but whatever it was, a Watcher
was communicating with me.

My heart started to race.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"His vision is gone," the guy said. Or thought. Or whatever it was he was doing.

"This was Damon's vision?" I asked.

He nodded.

"What happened?"

"It was taken from him," he communicated.

"By who? You? The Watchers?"

He nodded.

"Why haven't you sent him to the Blood?" I asked.

"That would be foolish," the guy answered.

"But . . . why? If anybody deserves it, geez."

"You have encountered his followers here in the Black?"
the guy asked.

"Well, yeah."

"After seeing what he accomplished here, imagine what
he would do if his spirit was united with the souls of the
damned."

I think my mouth fell open. I hadn't even considered
that. The army he put together with spirits in the Black
would be Little League compared to the force he could
assemble in a place that was full of the worst humanity had
ever produced. The possibility was too horrible to imagine,
which is probably why I hadn't.

"That's why you've kept him in the Black all this time?" I asked, numb. "To keep him away from the spirits of the damned?"

He nodded.

I wanted to cry.

"Where is he?" I asked.

"He seeks the weapon he calls a poleax. He must not be allowed to retrieve it."

"So stop him!" I shouted. "You guys are the bosses, right? You have all the power. Why can't you just destroy him?"

"We do not have that ability," he answered. "The spirits of the living must decide their own destiny. That is why we look to you."

"Me?"

"You and Marshall Seaver and those around you have been placed in this position by circumstance. You have not asked for the responsibility, yet it is yours. Only a spirit of the Black can stop another. If Damon retrieves the poleax, the Morpheus Road will be destroyed, and with it, humanity as it has always existed."

For the first time I understood what Marsh went through when he couldn't handle pressure. I felt nauseous.

"This isn't fair!" I shouted. "All I did was go out for a boat ride at night. It was stupid, but I don't deserve this."

"Agreed."

My mind raced to a thousand different scenarios and possibilities and ways to stay as far away from this particular Trouble Town as possible, but came up empty.

"Where's Maggie? And Ree and my gramps?"

"I do not know."

"How could you not know? You're a Watcher!"

BOOK: The Black
7.97Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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