Death Becomes Me (Call Me Grim Book 2) (20 page)

24

The wind whips around me and pushes my hoodie tight against my chest. I managed to pick up enough speed to fly by myself, but I’m still moving much slower than when Aaron and I flew together. I’m afraid if I go too fast I won’t be able to see clearly and I’ll get lost. And I can’t afford to get lost right now. The annoying Reaper clock in my head keeps relentlessly updating me on how little time I have left.

Tick, tick, tick … Less than twenty hours before Bobby and Aaron wake up, if your relaxing power over them even lasts that long…Tick, tick, tick…

The rolled-up road map I swiped —I left a ten on the counter, because I’m still not a thief—from a gas station convenience store on the way out of the city slides out of my back pocket easily. I glance down after I unroll it and follow the thick red line I drew with a Sharpie. I’m flying twenty feet above the traffic of I-80, and if I keep going at this speed I have at least another hour before I reach Carroll Falls. Gah.

My shoulders drop and I sigh heavily as I return the map to my pocket. Sure, I’m traveling a hell of a lot faster than if I was driving a car or on a train, but it doesn’t feel nearly fast enough. Though I know losing focus of the world around me would be disastrous, my body itches for more speed.

I tuck my hands behind my back and pump my feet faster, pushing the boundary of my vision as much as I can, but the horizon instantly blurs and forces me to slow down.

Tick, tick, tick…By the time you get there, you’ll have less than nineteen hours to convince Kyle to kill you. Good luck with that…Tick, tick, tick…

How the heck am I supposed to do that, anyway? Kyle will never do that willingly. He’d sooner dangle my eight-year-old brother off Jumpers Bridge than let me die. What can I possibly say to him to change his mind?

My mind searches for something, anything that might convince him. Because the truth probably won’t. He told Aaron before we left Carroll Falls that he had no problem killing him if running from Abaddon didn’t work out. Heck, he didn’t even want Ruth to tell me things were falling apart in Carroll Falls. He wanted Aaron to bring me and keep up his end of the bargain. That’s part of the reason I knocked Aaron out and left him in Chicago, to keep him safe and away from Kyle. That and the fact that Aaron made it clear he would kill Kyle as fast as Kyle would kill him. If they murder each other to make sure I’m Carroll Falls next Reaper, then all of this has been for nothing.

I am willing to be the town Reaper, but not at the expense of two people I love—maybe I love them in different ways, but I still love them both.

What can I do or say that will convince Kyle to kill me? I need time to think of an answer and time is something I have very little of. As much as I wish I could hurry up and get there, I am desperate for more time on the road to think.

My bottom lip pinches between my teeth, and blood touches my tongue. I hadn’t realized I was biting it so hard. The coppery taste floods my mouth and memories of a dream I had a long time ago fill my mind.

In the dream, Aaron and I stood in the middle of Jumpers Bridge. His gaunt body was covered from head to toe with a black shroud. I held his skeletal, blood-soaked hand, which coated mine with gore. Fat drops of blood dripped from our joined hands to the wooden train tracks at our feet. I looked up at him to catch sight of his azure-blue eyes, but his face was hidden deep in a black hood.

Dream-me knew the monster holding my hand was Aaron, even though, at the time, I had never seen him in his Reaper form. Funny how dreams work that way. Now that I’ve seen a few Reapers in their Reaper forms for myself, I wouldn’t know one from the other if my life depended on it. They all look the same.

Wait. They
all
look the
same.

My heart picks up speed even as I slow my pace. How did I not think of this before?

***

The border of Carroll Falls crackles with blue electricity as I step over the threshold that cuts across Hell’s Highway. Every Reaper border since we left Carroll Falls has popped with energy when crossed, but this feels different—ominous, suffocating, but at the same time strangely comforting.

I’m home. For better or worse, I’m home.

The Gateway waits a mere fifty feet from the road, a cleared circle in the underbrush. My eyes focus on it, studying the unnatural swirls of grass and dirt within the ring. There’s far more contained inside that circle than grass, rocks, and soil, but, for now, Abaddon is not here. The gut-wrenching pull of dread I felt when Abaddon came to Bobby’s house using Annalise’s soul is thankfully absent.

I almost didn’t come this way. There are a few different ways to get into Carroll Falls, other than Hell’s Highway. I could have circled the town and come in from the south, or taken a few back roads in, or I could have followed the train tracks through the mountains, but none of these options are nearly as convenient.

Plus, I wanted to know if he was here, either waiting for me, or holding Max hostage inside the Gateway. I’m not sure what I would have done if he had been here, but I sure am happy he’s not.

Abaddon must not know anything yet, which means Bobby’s still sound asleep. Good.

I allow myself a moment of relief, then pull my gaze away from the clearing and turn back to the road. If my plan is going to work, I need to be in Grim Reaper form before I see Kyle. It’s a small town and I don’t know where I’ll run into him.

I’ve only changed into Reaper form once before, the first day Aaron trained me at Jumpers Bridge. Changing shape was not easy— actually, it was downright painful—but maybe being a full Reaper will make it easier this time. At least, I hope so.

The soles of my tennis shoes pound the asphalt as I jog down the middle of Hell’s Highway for another mile. Even though I know Abaddon is not here, I don’t like being that close to the Gateway. It gives me the creeps.

When I’m far enough away that the heebie-jeebies have mostly subsided, I veer off the road and into the woods. I can’t risk having a car drive through me right now. I need to concentrate.

The green shadows of the trees embrace me as I wade into the thick underbrush at the side of the road. Leaves and sticks crunch under my feet. Branches tug my hair, yanking strands of it out of my pony tail, but I pay it no mind. I’m not trying to impress anyone with my looks today. There will be no looking nice once I’m in Reaper form.

I stop in front of a cluster of rocks with one boulder sticking up out of the group like a gigantic middle finger directed at the Gateway. Nature itself is giving Abaddon the biggest eff-off in history. If I wasn’t so close to tears, I’d laugh.

The cool surface of the largest boulder (the extended middle finger one) presses into my back as I lean against it and close my eyes.

When Aaron taught me how to change, he said to imagine every cell in my body moving around inside of me, doing their business, being human blood cells, bone cells, skin cells. Then he told me to make them stop and listen to me. Make the cells inside of my body stop what they’re doing and relax. He said, once they do that, the Reaper form just sort of happens.

“That’s all there is to it, really,”
he said with a smirk.

“Right.” I rolled my eyes then, and I feel like rolling them now. But as frustrating and hard as it was, I did it. I made my body turn into a Reaper. And I know I can do it again.

My eyebrows furrow as I focus on my body. I think of all of those tiny cells working hard to keep me alive and in good health. Then I tell them to stop.

I’m surprised at how well they listen. I thought for sure, I’d have to try this a couple of times before I got it to work. But, no. The thought barely formed in my head and my body listened.

My legs burn and itch at the same time. The muscles and tendons stretch as my legs grow long and thin. I glance down at my pants, worried I’ve grown right out of my jeans and that they’re in a pile at my feet, but my jeans are gone. In their place is a black, billowing shroud that undulates against my bony body, even in the absence of a breeze. I hold my hand up and gasp. I shouldn’t be surprised at the skeletal claw at the end of my arm, but I am. Probably because it’s
my hand.
What’s left of my skin crackles like paper as I flex my fingers. Flakes of dry skin drift from my hand like grotesque snow.

I don’t need to see my face to know what’s there. Nothing. My face is an endless, empty hole under a black hood.

“Perfect,” I say in the deepest growl I can muster. The voice coming from my throat is somehow more frightening than when it came from Aaron, but I shake it off.

I burst out of the woods through the weeds and branches, to run on the blacktop of Hell’s Highway. Toward Carroll Falls and my fate. My oily-black shadow quivers on the ground, like it’s a separate creature from me, a demon maybe, and it’s alive. If there was ever a time I felt this road had the perfect nickname, it’s right now.

Flying is much better in Reaper form than in human form. First, I don’t have to pump my legs; I just glide through the air like a ghost. And second, I can get to full speed almost instantaneously. Now I know why Aaron always switched to Reaper form when he wanted to move fast. It’s so much easier. That’s something I would have liked to have known before I ran across half the country, but I guess it doesn’t matter now.

It doesn’t take long for the northern woods to thin. The houses on the outskirts of town fill the gaps where, a hundred years ago, trees once stood.

I make a quick stop at my house. It’s on my way to town and I need to make sure Max is okay and that I’m not too late. As I expected, Mom’s car isn’t in the driveway. Miss Lena’s car is in her spot next to mine. Voices drift from the open front door.

“Max, time for lunch,” Miss Lena calls from inside.

“Coming,” he calls back and I hear his feet stomping down the stairs. My breath hitches then releases in a huff. He’s okay. I’d go in and see him, but I’m afraid if I do that I won’t want to leave and I don’t have time to waste being a blubbery mess.

I need to check on Haley. It’s Saturday. She’s probably working at the movie theater, so I walk out to Diablo Road and head into town.

At the corner of Diablo Road and Main Street I stop and gaze down the center of downtown Carroll Falls. It’s quiet and quaint, like always, and compared to Chicago it feels old, tired, and dusty.

These brick buildings look like they’ve lined Main Street since before the Civil War. It’s not possible, since the town was founded thirty years after the war was over, but I can still imagine them being here that long. Or longer. They look like they could be a thousand years old. A million years old.

Home sweet home.

I shake my head. I’m not here to criticize or compare the town I grew up in to the big city. I have a job to do.

My creepy shadow ripples on the black top ahead of me as I float twenty feet above the center of Main Street. I settle to the ground on the sidewalk in front of the movie theater.

“Enjoy the show.” Haley slides tickets and change under the glass of her ticket booth and gives the customer a stiff smile. She looks terrible. Her disheveled hair hangs in her tired, bloodshot eyes. Her uniform is wrinkled and… Is that dirt on her collar?

I’ve never seen her look like this. Ever. Even after Mike broke up with her, she managed to comb her hair and put on a smile when she left the house. Perfection is Haley’s goal, her life. She wouldn’t leave the house looking like this unless there was something really wrong.

I have to find Kyle.

I swing around to Foster’s Ice Cream Parlor and peer through the window. I don’t expect Kyle to be in there, but since I’m already here, it doesn’t hurt to check.

The shop is busy. Every table is taken and the people lined up at the counter wait to order the best ice cream Carroll Falls has to offer; in other words, it’s a normal Saturday afternoon at Foster’s. My eyes scan the crowd through the glass. There are lots of familiar faces, people I know and people I’ve just seen around town, but none of them are the face I’m looking for.

My stomach rumbles. What I would give for a chocolate decadence sundae right now, but I can’t let myself get distracted by sweet deliciousness. In this form, I’m not even sure I can eat anyway. I turn away from the window and continue down Main Street, back toward Hell’s Highway and Kyle’s house.

I can’t be sure where Kyle is, but I know he’s somewhere in town, and my best bet is to check his house.

25

The boom of Kyle’s drums rattles the garage windows and the beat matches the thrum of my heart. I should have known he’d be here.

I glance over at Mrs. Wellings’ house, half expecting her sharp eyes to be glaring at the Dennis’ garage from her side window, but she’s not there. Her car is gone and, other than one of her many cats lounging in the window, her house looks empty. Not that it matters if she’s home. Kyle’s drum playing can’t be heard by anyone anymore.

This is it. I’m here, finally standing in front of Kyle’s house. And I know he’s in there. No one else in town can rock a drum set like he can. I swallow hard, steeling myself to do what I need to do, but I can’t move forward.

What if he knows it’s me? I know Kyle. He won’t do it if he knows it’s me. And if he doesn’t do it, all of this will have been for nothing.

But what if he
doesn’t
figure it out? What if I play this off perfectly and everything goes as planned? What if Kyle kills me?

I drift back, startled. My whole plan was to come back to Carroll Falls to die, but I never really thought about the actual dying part. If Kyle doesn’t recognize me and he decides to do as I ask, I’ll be dead. Gone.
Adios, amigos.

Will dying hurt? Will Kyle be willing to take me to the Gateway once I’m dead and he realizes it’s me? Will I have to face Abaddon for all the rule-breaking I’ve done?

I straighten my shoulders. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. This is not the time for second thoughts. I have to do this. Either Kyle kills me and escorts my soul to the Gateway, or Max and/or Haley gets taken as a Shadow. And the way Haley’s looking, it might just be her.

The rolling drum solo ends with a crash of the cymbal. I imagine Kyle on the other side of the garage door, sitting on the stool behind his drum set, sweaty and breathless, as he is every time he plays that hard.

It’s now or never. I glide forward and stop at the door to take a deep breath before I meld through the horizontal metal slats and come face to face with my best friend.

Kyle is right where I pictured he’d be, slumped on the stool behind his drum set. He holds his drumsticks in his hands, his fists propped on his thighs. Sweat drips from his wavy hair, making trails down the sides of his face. And there, on his right thumb, is the Scythe.

I don’t know if he sees me in his peripheral vision or if he feels my presence, but his head snaps up as soon as I enter the garage. He yelps and drops his drumsticks. They clatter to the floor and roll under the drum set.

“Hi Kyle,” I say using my deepest, manliest Reaper voice. “It’s me, Aaron.”

Boy, did that feel weird to say.

“Aaron?” He reaches under the bass drum for his sticks. “Shit, dude. Why the hell are you in Reaper form? You almost gave me a heart attack.”

A choir of angels sings The Hallelujah Chorus in my head. He doesn’t know it’s me. At least not yet. My goal is to keep it that way.

“Sorry about that.” I pull in a deep breath, preparing to say the excuse I’ve been practicing since I decided to do this. “I don’t know why, but I’ve been this way since Libbi and I left Carroll Falls. I can’t change back.”

I study his face for a trace of disbelief and I’m shocked I don’t see one. Not even a skeptical twitch of his eyebrows. Who knew I could be such a good liar? I guess it’s hard to read any tells on someone with no face.

Kyle’s lips curve in a smug smile but it quickly disappears. He scoots back from the drum kit and stands. Lucky for me, he can’t see my eyes. They trace over every inch of his exposed skin, searching for any evidence of Abaddon’s abuse. His face and neck are clean, but fresh, oozing wounds stripe both of his forearms. I can’t help it. I flinch and gasp when I see the raw, pink flesh. I did that to him. Me. I have to make it up to him. Somehow.

“Well, you made record time, Aaron.” He saunters around the kit and places his fists on his hips. “Thanks for coming. Libbi doesn’t know you’re here, right?” He scowls up at me. Worry scrunches his eyebrows together in the middle and the muscles of his jaw work as he clenches his teeth.

I wish I could go to him, put my arms around him, tell him everything’s okay. But that is out of the question. Aaron wouldn’t do that in a million years. And today, I am Aaron Shepherd.

“Not yet.” I move toward him. My tattered robe billows around me like a poisonous cloud. “You told me not to.”

“Right.” Kyle’s eyes narrow. “Where is she?” He grips his sticks so hard the skin pulls tight over his white knuckles.

“She’s in Chicago.” My twitching, oil slick of a shadow settles over his drum kit. “I relaxed her and left her behind. But once she wakes up, she’ll follow me. I left her a note.”

Kyle levels me with his furious glare. If it was possible for him to make flames shoot from his eyeballs and incinerate me, he would.

“She can’t come here.” Kyle’s eyes widen and his cheeks suddenly match the pallid shade of his knuckles. “Carroll Falls is the worst possible place for her to come. Abaddon has summoned me to the Gateway, like, six times today. He—” Kyle stops, swallows, and gently touches his abdomen. It’s a familiar, defensive action. One that makes my stomach churn with bile. Kyle looks up at me. “He hurts me. He’d probably kill me, if he could. He’s ruthless, Aaron.”

“I know he is,” I say as all the people Abaddon has hurt leap to the surface of my mind. One long string of Reapers, from Aaron to Nicholas. Every single one I’ve met has been hurt in some way by Abaddon. How many more? All of them? A tendril of fear wraps my chest and constricts.

I reach out to Kyle, concerned for him, but jerk back when he recoils from my touch. It makes sense. My skeletal Reaper hand, complete with chunks of dry, parchment-like skin hanging off of it, is more horrific than comforting. I’d recoil from me too.

“I’m so sorry.”

“No worries, dude. We both knew it was coming.” His shoulder lifts in a half-shrug. “I honestly don’t care what he does to me. I think he knows that. That’s why he’s set his sights on Haley.”

“What’s he doing to Haley?” The tendril of fear has turned into an iron vice and squeezes the breath out of me.

“I don’t know, but she’s changing.” A rivulet of sweat drips down the side of his face and he wipes it away with his sleeve. “And today he threatened to make her into some kind of a zombie if I don’t cooperate. I told him I don’t know where Libbi is, but I don’t think he believed me.” He combs his fingers through his damp hair. “I think he knows more than we think. And if I don’t tell him what I know …” He swallows hard. “He’ll hurt my sister. I can’t let him hurt my twin sister.”

“Listen,” I say. “We won’t let that happen. We can fix this.”

His eyes shoot up and dance over the hole where my face should be, searching for a place to settle, but finding nothing. He looks away.

“I didn’t forget what we planned back on Jumpers Bridge. If our escape from Carroll Falls didn’t work, you said you’d kill me. We promised to kill each other. ” Now it’s my turn to swallow the bowling ball of sand in my throat. “Well, it didn’t work. Abaddon knows we escaped, and everywhere we go, the local Reaper tries to cart Libbi back to Abaddon. She’s only safe now because another Reaper agreed to hide her in his territory. But as soon as she wakes up, she’ll read my note and follow me here.”

I settle to the ground. My hulking frame towers over him, but I know he’s not afraid of me. He could easily transform into Reaper form if he wanted. Plus, he has something I don’t: the Scythe.

“How is she supposed to follow you here if she attracts every Reaper in a twenty-mile radius?”

Good question. One I hadn’t prepared an answer for. Shit.

I float toward the slated door of the garage to buy some time to think, then the answer hits me like a sledge hammer. Kyle doesn’t know what happened to us once we left Carroll Falls. He doesn’t know what powers we have or don’t have, or how being out of the territory affected us.

“She can still run and fly. If she keeps moving, she won’t be in a territory long enough to attract attention. And don’t worry. She knows she has to move fast.”

“But she can’t come here, Aaron.” His voice cracks and he shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous here.”

“If you keep your word, it won’t be.” I spread my corpse-like hands in front of me in the easy-as-pie gesture Aaron always uses. “If we both die right before Libbi gets to town, she will be the Carroll Falls Reaper as soon as she crosses the barrier. Abaddon will have what he wanted all along and Libbi will be safe.” I force another dry swallow and try not to fidget. “But we have to kill each other, Kyle. It’s the only way. And we don’t have time to waste. Libbi will be here soon. We have to do it. Right now.”

Kyle’s dark brown eyes slide over his drum set. They swim with fear and doubt. His drumsticks tremble in his hands. I fight the urge to close the distance between us and throw my arms around him.

He’s about to refuse. I can tell. And I don’t blame him. If I were him, I’d refuse too. Actually, the selfish part of me that doesn’t want to die is sort of relieved. Then he nods and steps away from his drum kit. He tucks his sticks in their home in his back pocket, where they live when he’s not beating things with them. He squares his broad shoulders, and looks up.

“All right, Aaron.” His voice is soft, but determined. “I’m in. How do you want to do this?”

The whole way here, I thought about this question. How can I set this up so Kyle thinks we’re killing each other, when, in fact, he only kills me? Pushing each other off of Jumpers Bridge won’t work. It’s too risky. There are too many ways for me to accidentally hurt him. Not to mention, I’m still not terribly fond of heights and the thought of plummeting to my death makes me sick. The last thing I need is to get a case of cold feet right at the last minute due to my stupid nerves.

No, if I’m going to do this, it needs to be quick, relatively painless, and foolproof.

“I know where we can get a couple of handguns.”

***

A soft breeze wafts the sweet scent of fabric softener around us as we settle to the sidewalk. Someone’s washing clothes. The smell is so familiar that I barely noticed it when Kyle, Max, and I used to sit on the porch swing after school every day. But now, the aroma assaults me with memories. Once again, I’m grateful my face is hidden inside of this hood.

“Libbi’s house?” Kyle’s eyebrows rise skeptically. “I didn’t know they had a gun.”

“They have two.” I lift a shoulder in a nonchalant shrug and try to answer how Aaron would answer. “Dina bought them when her husband left. One for upstairs, and one for downstairs. She was afraid of being in the house alone with two kids.”

“Huh …” Kyle’s eyes narrow as he scrutinizes the front of the house. “How did you know about that, Aaron?”

“Libbi told me when she showed me the guns,” I say quickly, and then I seize his arm in my skeletal talon, and yank him toward the house. “Let’s go.”

We scoot by Miss Lena’s car. It sits in the driveway next to my car, in the spot where my mom usually parks. Mom must be at work, or she’s out looking for me. A thorn of guilt digs into my chest. She must be so worried. I wish I could tell her I’m okay, but that possibility left the moment I became a full-out Reaper.

The wooden floorboards of the front porch creak under our weight. The sound’s so familiar it makes my heart hurt. We melt through the front door together and the warm air inside the foyer embraces us, along with the scent of cinnamon.

“I don’t know.” Max’s doubtful voice echoes from the kitchen. “It’s okay, I guess. I think Libbi’s was better.”

“Well, I don’t think I’ll ever make cinnamon toast as good as your sister’s,” Miss Lena says patiently, but I can hear a subtle note of sadness in her voice. “Don’t worry. She’ll come home, Max.”

“No, she won’t,” Max says matter-of-factly, then his voice picks up the same tone of grief Miss Lena’s had a moment ago. “She’s safe. I know she is. But she won’t come home.”

I take a step toward the kitchen, overcome with the desire to see him, hug him, ruffle his hair, tell him I love him, even if I know he can’t see, hear, or feel me. But I freeze, mid-stride.

Aaron wouldn’t go to Max’s side. He wouldn’t do any of those things. He liked Max and all, but he wasn’t his brother. If I rush back to the kitchen to see Max, Kyle will catch on. And I already pushed things a little too far just by coming here for the guns.

I do an about-face and point to the top of the hutch next to the front door. My robe twists around my body with the movement.

“There’s one hidden up there,” I say. “Grab it, and I’ll get the one upstairs.”

Kyle nods and reaches up to run his hand along the top of the cabinet. I don’t wait for him to find the gun. I fly up the stairs to the second story.

The aroma of my mother’s lavender bath oil permeates her bedroom like a sleepy cloud. I take a deep breath, filling my lungs with the scent of her, remembering her arms around me. Kyle isn’t here to question my actions so I drift over to her bed. I lift her pillow and hug it to my chest, wishing it was her instead.

“I love you, Mom,” I say using my real voice, not the creepy growl I’ve been using since I got to Carroll Falls. I place the pillow back on the bed and straighten the blankets then I slip my hand between the mattress and the box spring. My fingers close around the cool grip of the pistol hidden there.