24. Cade

24

CADE

T he needle going into my arm only hurt a bit. A pinch. I wasn't a fan of the wretched things, but the entire situation had been born out of necessity. We all were doing what we needed to do to save Sam—and the dead.

I hadn't ever had an opioid in my life either, so I had no idea what to expect. As the drug infiltrated my veins, a tingly feeling coursed through my muscles and relaxed me. Then I understood what Uncle Gally had said about Brigitta floating away. I became disconnected, euphoric, but sleepy.

And then SLAM.

Bright white-hot light pierced through my body. The intensity of every single muscle contracting at the same time seared the memory of that pain into my brain. Fire. Pure raging fire. But it lasted for seconds. Maybe not even that long…

And then I stood beside my still body. The blue halo of every spirit I had ever seen surrounded me.

Damn, I'm dead.

Jay knelt beside me, fingertips white with strain as he clutched his phone. A countdown of three minutes ticking down was visible on the screen. Sharon stood watch, ready with a vial of Narcan in one hand and another damn pointy syringe filled with epinephrine.

The look on Jay's face destroyed me.

It's odd how quickly we can make connections with people. Deep connections. I hadn't known him a week yet, but?—

"Well, we didn't think you were ever going to figure this out."

I spun around to find the source of the voice.

A tall, dark-haired, pale-skinned man stood behind Sam, his hands placed on the boy's shoulders. My instinct to try and protect Jay's child swirled, contracting my chest and my heart. He wasn't mine, but I immediately felt the need to rush over there and rip him away from the stranger.

Poor Sam. So small, and yet brave and smart.

Olivia was there, too, but she wasn't the monster we saw. Not the half-rotted distorted and rage-filled spirit. She was a simple girl, in a nightgown, with long hair parted down the middle of her head, and a bright smile spread across her face as she reached toward Sam.

"Who are you?" I asked the stranger.

"My name isn't important."

"Disagree. I'm not calling you Death. You have or had a name."

He sighed, shook his head, then gave me a terse smile.

"Corey. My name was Corey. It isn't anymore. We've been waiting."

"For Sam?" I asked.

"For someone to own up to the destruction of one of our own." His tight, black dress shirt was opened to the sternum. Dark-black-ink tattoos had been etched into his skin on his chest and neck: occult symbols, ones that looked familiar but not enough for me to discern any meaning.

"The car accident wasn't Sam's fault."

"It never is. No one ever claims victory over killing Death, especially when they realize what's next. You can't cheat death. One way or another, we will get ours," Corey said.

"What do you want? He's not even eleven. He's far too young to take on this kind of responsibility."

"We realize that. But a job has to be done," the reaper said. He clutched Sam's shoulders. His sleeves were rolled up. His forearms rippled with muscle. More hex marks and symbols covered them. Several leather and beaded bracelets adorned one wrist. A necklace hung from his neck with yet another strange amulet dangling from the chain. Again, nothing I could pinpoint or know.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Corey gazed at Olivia longingly. "Such innocence. Such a short life. She really should have passed through a long time ago. She's been holding on too long. And now that she's ready to go, she can't. You can imagine why she's so angry." Corey tutted.

"What do you want?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

"Stop being obtuse. I haven't got much time," I said, glancing back at Jay. Jay, whose eyes said everything. Longing, pain, and anger weeping tears down his cheek.

"Oh, you've got all the time in the world. I determine if you go or stay. I have you here, I may need to keep you. If I let you leave, I may not get what we need."

That shocked me. Death was an asshole. Was I surprised? Perhaps a little.

"I need to go back. It's not my time."

"Isn't it? Perhaps this was what was supposed to happen. Maybe this is exactly how the rare talent of a psychic medium dies. Would be fitting, don't you think? Chasing after reapers could only led to one thing." Corey's gaze darkened.

I am in trouble.

I could see both Jay and Sharon moving, but everything in the other realm transpired in slow motion. Was time different here?

"They're about ready to try and bring you back, but we're not done." Death raised a single eyebrow.

"We know Sam needs to set things right. Sharon made a mistake in not accepting her role. We know he's the one the responsibility passed to…but he's a child." I pointed at Sam as I pleaded with the reaper.

"How very observant. I understand he's young. It's not our problem." Corey pulled on the back of Sam's T-shirt exposing his neck. "See, he bears the mark." Death pointed to the skin.

From where I stood, black ink bubbled up to the surface of Sam's skin. At first it appeared to be something akin to a Rorschach blotch. But the ink settled, and the image was absolutely identifiable.

It was a skull.

"We know. We came to find you to ask for assistance. Sam needs help. The dead here have become violently hostile." I begged of the reaper. But his stoicism remained.

"You would be too if you couldn't transition." The coyness agitated me, making this entire encounter one that made me fume.

"Again, we get it. We are willing to help. Sam will take on the responsibility, but he is a ten-year-old boy! He can't possibly take on the duties of one of yours. Not yet. He needs tutelage. He needs supervision."

"He needs to start doing his job. Age is not a factor."

"Then show him how. He doesn't understand what needs to be done."

"Should be instinctual." Death shrugged. "But I also beg to differ. Sam has let others through. He is choosing not to."

"What?" My heart lurched. A yank. A pull. I turned to see Jay and Sharon. A needle stuck out from my chest. Jay had the AED device in his hands.

"They are trying to pull you back. But not yet. We are not done. I don't have confirmation." Corey said, still deadpan cold.

"If I don't go when I need to, I will not survive."

Again, Death shrugged.

"What do you want?" I yelled.

Death gestured toward Sam, and then glanced at Olivia. He motioned between the two.

And then I understood.

Olivia had to go.

Sam had to let Olivia go. He had to start the process.

"But he doesn't know how." I shouted.

"He's done it before. As I said, it's a natural function. It's built into us. It's not difficult, but he's holding onto her. That's a no-no." Death tsked.

I went to Sam and knelt. If I was dead, he should see me. Olivia acknowledged my presence as soon as I got close to Sam. She pointed at the ground. It was then I realized I had stepped through the salt line and into the ghost trap.

Olivia and I were hostages.

I was fucked.

Jay

"Why isn't he coming back?!" I yelled at Sharon.

"I told you this was a shit stupid idea." Sharon threw her arms up. "Use the paddles again. I should have brought more epi. Goddammit."

"Cade, come on, Cade…come back." I threw the paddles onto Cade's chest and watched as his body convulsed. "Goddammit, Sharon. Do something!"

"Dad," Sam said.

"Not now, Sam."

"But, Dad," Sam said again and pointed.

I turned around, about to lecture Sam when I saw what he pointed to.

Cade, ghostly Cade, half-rotted, hollow, sunken cheeks, standing in the ghost trap with Olivia.

"Dad, why is Cade there?"

"He's trying to save you, Sam. He's trying to find Death. Remember?"

A dark shadow appeared in the corner, emerging from the shadows.

"This is painful to watch," a deep, rumbling voice said. No body, just the words.

"Who's there?" Sharon screamed.

"Death." And with that, a tall man, all in black, muscled, inked, and who under other circumstances might have been considered handsome, came into the light. "Death has arrived for Cade."

"No! You cannot have him!" I screamed.

"Well, that is now up to the young Sam." Death waved his palm to my boy.

"We know. We know he's supposed to take over. But he needs help. He doesn't know what to do." Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. Death had come. We had done it. But at what cost?

Cade knelt in the ghost-trap circle with Olivia. At least she wasn't tormenting my boy.

"A reaper doesn't need help. It is what we do. What we are tasked with. It is innate in our nature. Sam only has to accept who he is."

I looked at Sam. My little boy.

"Sam, do you know? Do you understand how to help Olivia, and all the others?" I asked.

"They want through. But it hurts my heart when they do it. I feel their sadness. They don't all want to leave. I don't like it. Olivia will be gone." Sam pouted. "They all leave me, and then I'm alone."

"Young one, she doesn't belong here anymore. Can't you see, she's upset. She wants to go to her family who are waiting for her. She can hear them; they call to her."

"This is why a child shouldn't have this responsibility," I yelled at the dark man. Probably not a smart thing to do. Yelling at Death.

Death smiled. It was wicked. "It's a lesson even seasoned reapers eventually learn. It happens. We get attached. Shouldn't do it, but it happens." He turned to Sam. "You need to let Olivia go."

"Sam, Cade is going to die. You need to let Olivia go!"

"But she got mean. I don't want to help her. She scares me." Sam turned away from Olivia.

I glared at Death.

Then I turned and saw Cade, and I died a little inside. The look in his eye. The sadness. The resignation. My mouth quivered and tears ran down my cheeks. Sharon continued to pound on Cade's chest trying to get his heart to start again.

"Sam, you have to let Olivia go. For Cade. We need to get Cade back. If you don't let Olivia go, we will lose Cade."

Sam looked at the ground, his expression sad, unsure, and lacking the confidence he normally carried.

Death came to stand behind Sam and put a single hand on his shoulder. He leaned over and whispered in Sam's ear. Nothing I could hear.

"That's not fair!" Sam screamed.

"Then do your job, little one."

"Sam, please. Let Olivia go." I walked over to Sam, abandoning my post next to Cade. I didn't want to lose him, but my boy…

"Daddy, I don't want to." His eyes glassed over. This clearly scared him, and I didn't blame him — not one bit. "But I don't want to hurt Cade."

"Okay, how about this? You let Olivia go, and I'll hold your hand while you do it. We'll do it together. Can you be brave enough, then?"

"Daddy…no." Tears streamed down his face.

"Sam, you have to. Please. For Cade. For me." I took his hand and held on for life, white knuckled and shaking. "Oh, Sam." I grabbed him and hugged him tight. "Do it. Right now. I've got you and I'll never let go."

"I wouldn't suggest this proximity…" Death said.

Sam scrunched his face. His eyes closed with brows furrowed. His lips disappeared as he tried so hard to not be scared, or cry.

And then I felt a warmth. Light blossomed behind Sam. My face and my chest heated like I was lying by the pool on a hot August afternoon—sun scorched, but calm, soothed.

The room around us darkened as Sam's light intensified.

A whoosh sounded in my ears as unseen breezes ghosted my ears and ruffled my hair.

Ice coated my spine. Creeping crystalline spikes as sharp as quills buried into my back.

I inhaled a deep breath as the pain overwhelmed me, and then I felt it. The grief and sadness overtook me in a massive wave with a wicked undertow. Olivia's last moments as a small child, dying from some insidious disease. Watching her mother crying as she closed her eyes. Leaving her favourite stuffed teddy behind, and her best friend Cynthia. Knowing she would not see them again for a long time. Letting go. Falling into darkness, not understanding what was next.

In that very moment, clinging to Sam, I understood why he didn't want to let Olivia go. It hurt too much.

But then as fast as it began, it ended. A wash of relief came over me. The ice was gone.

"Well done, young one." Death clapped. "Now you must open yourself up to others. Whoever comes to you, you must determine if they are ready, and let them pass if it is so."

I let go of my son, his face emotionless. "Sam, are you okay?"

He nodded.

I turned to Death, "You're a monster. Asking a child to carry this burden."

"It is what we all must do. He will survive, and he will learn how to cope. But it must be done." Death put a hand on Sam's shoulder, "I will be back, Sam, often, and should you have need of me, all you have to do is whisper my name. But you must accept your fate. Will you?"

A simple question. Two words.

But such a heavy sacrifice.

Sam glanced at me. His gaze said so much. Asking for permission, wanting to say no, pleading for normalcy. Nothing in his stare was anything I would have denied him.

"I can't tell you what to do, Sam. I can't. But we need to get Cade back." I glanced at the ghost trap, and Cade watching the scene as it unfolded.

I walked over to the paint can that Cade had used to scribe the symbol. I opened the can, dipped the brush in, and destroyed the mark. Hopefully that would free him. My bear.

I wanted my bear back with me.

"It's been too long," Sharon said from the other side of the room.

"Sam, say the words. Accept your responsibility and do your job with regularity, and I will let Cade return. But there will be consequences. You shouldn't have put it off this long."

"What do you mean, consequences? That's not fair to Sam. He's a child." I hated Death. What an asshole.

"Not for Sam. For Cade. The living should never tread in the realm of the dead. Cade will have to sacrifice something should he wish to return." Death glanced at my psychic bear.

Cade nodded.