Dying Breath Page 22

  I can’t let this go on.

  My heart beats in my chest. I draw my first breath and the tether connecting my spirit and body warms. My omniscient gaze narrows. The world dims to a specific place and time.

  “Restraining her is pointless. What could that possibly do?”

  “We can’t leave her like this. She’s breathing. We have no idea what she’ll do once she’s awake.”

  “Whatever she does I’m sure it will be more rational than what she’ll do if she wakes up restrained,” a voice quips. Annoyance grates against my skin. Gideon is fighting for my freedom. “Even with all the powers, she didn’t kill Maisie. She could have, but she saved her. That is an excellent sign.”

  “I’ve seen what she will do,” the other man says. There’s something familiar about this voice. It’s uptight and clipped. “I’ve seen the visions. I’ve followed her progression since the beginning. Every vision has come to pass. I have no reason to believe that my next won’t also come to pass. If she ascends in her current state, that’s it for everyone. The end of us all. We have to reason with her.”

  “If that’s true,” Gideon says. “I advise you against the restraints. I speak from personal experience. Reason is quite difficult when I’m tied up.”

  “You have no idea what she’s capable of.”

  I open my eyes and Jeremiah takes a step back.

  Of course, he does.

  I take in the room. It’s a bedroom in a small house. Someone darts past a doorway, carrying out a body. So, Jeremiah caught up to us and is cleaning up our mess. My mess. Lucky me.

  Gideon is braver. He holds his ground. “Hello, beautiful. How are you feeling?”

  “Maisie?” My voice cracks and I dry cough. I sit up in the bed.

  “Alive, thanks to you. We’ve stitched her up, and she’ll be fine. Her NRD will heal the bullet wound. She should be as good as new in a few hours.”

  I turn on Jeremiah. A quick flip through his mind tells me all I need to know. “Prophet.”

  His back stiffens.

  “So you saw me destroy the world?” I’m not even surprised. I saw what he saw. The memory is one of the most vivid in that dense skull of his.

  I’m standing in the dead of winter, a frozen landscape stretching in all directions until a purple light blows me apart. I go quasar.

  It will be mercy.

  The explosion will be so enormous and so quick no one will feel a thing. Isn’t this preferable to another 1000 years of pain?

  “You don’t understand,” I tell him. “You’ve seen a lot, but not everything.”

  I give him a taste of it. I shove all the painful images I collected from Gabriel’s confession and my short time without a body into his mind.

  I let him see the dead children washing onto the shore like trash from the open sea.

  A cry escapes him.

  “I can’t let that happen.”

  “What about Alice?” Gideon asks. His heart is hammering in his chest a mile a minute. I feel it in my own head like a second pulse. “You would kill her?”

  “To save her from a lifetime of suffering? If Brinkley was being tortured and you couldn’t stop it, wouldn’t you shoot him in the head? Wouldn’t you see that as a mercy?”

  “You can stop it. You’ll find a way to stop it. I don’t believe that you saved Maisie only to take her life away, did you?”

  I can’t explain it to them. I can’t possibly make them understand. I can scare the shit out of them, as I’ve clearly done with Jeremiah. He’s on his knees on the floor, weeping like a baby.

  “I can remake the world. I can make it into anything I want. I’ll make it better, Gideon. I’ll make you and Maisie and Ally, and hell, maybe even me. I’ll make us all over but without all the bullshit. Without all the fucked-up parts. I’ll make it right.”

  Gideon’s jaw sets. “That’s not what Brinkley taught us. He taught us to keep moving forward. To keep trying no matter how fucked up a situation is. He taught you better than that.”

  His words sting.

  “You don’t understand,” Jeremiah cries, still on his knees. “It is not an imagining. It’s what you are. If you remake the world, you will only make it what you are.”

  He opens his mouth to explain, but I can’t listen to him anymore.

  I know what I’ve got to do.

  I’m going to take this enormous power and use it for good. I’m going to take away all the pain. I’ll erase all the cruelty. I’ll dream up a better world for all of us.

  “No, wait!” Gideon reaches out to grab me, but his feet clip Jeremiah hunched on the floor.

  I slip through the darkness before he has a chance to stop me.

  The in-between world squeezes me, but this time, I don’t find it nearly as claustrophobic as I did on my earlier trips.

  When I pop out the other side and find Ally, I’m not even breathless this time.

  She stands the second she sees me. She’s holding Gloria’s hand. The woman’s unconscious but breathing beneath the snug bedsheets of a hospital bed. Her red coat is thrown over the back of a chair.

  “Jesse!” Ally sighs. Her relief washes over me like a cool cloth to a feverish brow. “Thank god, you’re all right.”

  My resolve melts instantly. Half a second ago, I was ready to say goodbye. I had absolute conviction that remaking the world was the right thing to do. Gabriel said himself it’s going to get worse before it gets better.

  But considering these big brown eyes, my prepared speech leaves me.

  Ally’s brow furrows. “What’s wrong?”

  “I have to.” Of all the super lame things I could have said, the best I manage is I have to? Really? Good job, Sullivan.

  “You have to what?” Ally lets go of Gloria’s hand and advances on me.

  Oh no, no, no. Don’t touch me. Don’t make this harder.

  Ally stops mid-stride as if she’s run into a brick wall. Her mouth falls open in surprise. “Jess!”

  It’s accusatory. And I realize it’s because I’ve stopped her using Rachel’s gift.

  Rachel’s gift is inside me because Georgia killed her for it. And I killed Georgia and even that small part of the journey is proof enough of what horrible, wretched people we are.

  “Don’t come any closer,” I say.

  “Why?” she asks. Her sadness socks me in the gut. Sadness and betrayal.

  “I—” I try to breathe around her mixed emotions. “I have to tell you something and if you get all touchy, feely I don’t think I can do it. So please, stay there.”

  “Jesse—”

  “Promise you’ll stay there and I’ll stop holding you back.”

  Anger warms her chest, fueled by her fear. “I promise. Now tell me what’s going on.”

  “When I rebooted, I saw all kinds of things. Horrible things. I could show you but I don’t want to. Just imagine the most malicious crap ever and then multiply it by a bazillion.”

  “How did you see this stuff?”

  “Gabriel showed me. He showed me what we’ve done—”

  “We?”

  “People. It’s going to get worse, Al. More wars. More death. It’s unbelievable. But it doesn’t have to be that way.”

  “It doesn’t have to be that way.” She repeats it but not in agreement. She repeats it as if she doesn’t understand the words coming out of my mouth.

  “I can choose a do-over. I can take us back to the beginning and we’ll try again. We can make better choices this time.”

  “That sounds—”

  “—perfect! Think about it. Undo all the suffering. All the murder. Rape. Crime. I can take it all back and make us better than we are now.”

  “Life isn’t perfect. It never will be. I don’t think even Gabriel can create a do-over like that. Are you sure you understand what—”

  “I have to! Okay? I didn’t go through all this so you’d have a long and miserable life. No. No. I refuse.”

  I’m crying. Somewhere in the middle of
my tirade my voice breaks and the tears stream down my face.

  Ally cries the second she sees me cry. I don’t take it personally. She cries whenever anybody cries. Even television people.

  “I can make it better. I can make it all donuts, all the time. No heartburn,” I say. “It’ll be amazing.”

  “This isn’t a joke,” she says. Leave it to Al to refuse my humor at such a crucial time. “Be serious.”

  I short jump in front of her and take her hands in mine.

  “Be serious? I love you, seriously. That’s the only thing worth being serious about.” I kiss her. I kiss her before she can yell at me or slap me or maybe even pull my hair. Her lips are warm and sticky on mine. Her wet cheeks slide against my own. I squeeze her so hard I’m sure she can’t breathe.

  Don’t be afraid, I whisper into her mind. I’d give you anything. Creating a world worthy of you will be enough. Because the world I imagine will have you in it. How could it not? You’re the only good I’ve ever known.

  Her fear spikes. “What about what I want?”

  “What do you want?” I’m prepared to give her anything.

  “You!” she grabs on to me. “This can’t be right, Jess. You’re missing something. Let’s talk about this.”

  Her doubt flares. My own conviction wavers.

  “I will take you when you are ready,” Gabriel says into my ear. Ally’s eyes widen. I’m still broadcasting, damn it.

  “I’ve loved you forever and always will. I don’t need to love the whole world to save it. Loving you is enough of a reason.”

  I kiss her cheek.

  “Jess, no. Listen.”

  Before my doubt can overtake me, I let go.

  I let go of Ally. I let go of my hold on the world and I slip through the darkness one last time.

  When I open my eyes I’m on a cliff. The air is stupidly cold. The tears on my cheek freeze instantly. Wind whips my hair around my face and I grab onto it, trying to hold it out of my face. Gabriel is beside me, watching me with those feral green eyes.

  “Let’s get this over with,” I tell him. Because I don’t think I can hold onto my nerve for much longer. Ally’s tear-stained face burns in my heart and mind.

  “Ascension is complex. The timing must be perfect,” he says.

  I shiver. “Just show me what to do.”

  He takes me into his arms. He’s warm like the sun on my cold skin. He pushes one of his hands through my hair as the other stays locked around my waist.

  “Do you know what you want?” he asks me. His tie fades from green to a deep midnight blue. His eyes do the same. They become star-filled waters at midnight, the reflection of a million stars shimmering on the liquid surface. I haven’t seen that in a while—the tie mood ring thing.

  Do you know what you want? he asks again.

  I thought I knew what I wanted about two minutes ago. Now I’m not sure.

  You must know what you want, he says. You must see the world you wish to create.

  I picture Ally. Ally smiling. Ally wrapping her arms around me. Ally leaning in to press her lips to mine. Because if I’m being honest with myself, I’m doing this for her. Sure, I’ll save the world, but I’m doing it for the person I love most. I wonder if the three partis before me were as selfish. Did they choose to become stars over shields because they wanted to save everyone?

  Or someone?

  I know my answer. My one wish.

  Ally untouched by sadness, pain, or heartbreak.

  Ally happy.

  Ally safe.

  Gabriel’s hold on me tightens.

  I’m ready, I say, and fall into midnight waters.

  Keep reading for a special preview of Dying Day, the final installment of the Dying for a Living series, coming 2017.

  Ally

  I flip through the sketchbook faster and faster. It lays open on Gloria’s motionless legs. The heart monitor attached to her finger beats a slow, steady rhythm, but I’d have to be in a coma myself to be that calm.

  At the fourth or fifth pass, the pencil sketches are completely illegible. Gray lead clings to my fingertips as I flip. The tears stream over my cheeks, plopping onto the page.

  There’s nothing here.

  No sign of how to save Jesse. No sign of how to stop her either.

  There’s not even a clue for where to look.

  Every picture I see is what’s already come to pass.

  Either Gloria was incapacitated before she could see this far into Jesse’s future, or even Gloria couldn’t possibly predict how this would end.

  I collapse into the hard plastic chair by the bed.

  I put my face in my hands and cry. I don’t know what else to do. I can’t call Jesse. Now that she has Caldwell’s teleportation ability, I can hardly chase her down.

  When Nikki returns from her call to Jeremiah, hopefully she’ll return with good news. She called him a prophet. Jeremiah himself told me in Chicago he’s been tracking Jesse ever since she was called to be a partis—one of the original twelve with a gift.

  Maybe he will know what to do. With Gloria wounded, I can only hope a new lead will present itself.

  At the very least, I hope Maisie’s alive.

  If Jesse has all the powers, I don’t know how it’s possible.

  I can’t think of that just now.

  I wish I could talk to my brother. He’s supposed to be the older, wiser one.

  Six impossible things before breakfast, Alice. That’s what he’d say, a reference to a favorite book from our childhood. To hear his voice now, even imaginary, is a comfort. Picturing him in Louisville with his pregnant wife, in his JC Penney suits and gatorskin shoes, running his law firm while the rest of us fight forces unseen—it’s all a comfort.

  That’s what I want with Jesse. Utility bills and fights about loading the dishwasher.

  Not all this chaos. All this fighting and leaping from one crisis to the next.

  I wipe my runny nose on my sleeve and look around for a tissue. When I don’t see a box readily available, I stand and head for the private bath opposite Gloria’s bed.

  I only take two steps and I freeze.

  Against the opposite wall stands a man. Tall, slumped with his arms over his chest. He’s dressed for the cover of GQ magazine, clean lines hugging his perfect form. His eyes are brilliant with a chin that you could break a board on. The only feature even approaching imperfection is his mouth, which sits full and a little too large for his face.

  “Gabriel?” I’m frightened to look away for fear he’ll disappear. But I’ve only seen him through Jesse’s eyes, through that strange telepathic connection. And Jesse isn’t here now. For all I know, I’ll never see her again.

  “I chose well,” he says. He flicks brilliant emerald eyes up to meet mine. An unnatural light shines through them, illuminating him from the inside out. “I stand by my decision.”

  “Jesse?”

  “The heart is the most important part of choosing the apex. Others disagree, but I am certain I am right in this. The heart, it is essential. An apex without a good heart makes a poor channel.”

  I blink but he doesn’t disappear. He remains fixed against the white cinder block wall, arms folded over his chest as if he has all the time in the world.

  “Where’s Jesse?” I ask. On cue, my imagination produces an extensive list of all the terrible things that could’ve happened to Jesse in the five minutes since she’s disappeared.

  “You are her tether to this world. The heart.”

  He uncrosses his arms and walks toward me. He places one polished shoe deliberately in front of the other. “It’s not too late to save her, Alice. To save you all.”

  Hope springs in my chest. “Tell me where she is.”

  He stops in front of me. He tilts his chin down and considers my face. Jesse must seem like a child to him. She’s so short by comparison. Yet when I saw her through his mind, he didn’t seem so big. Is he adjustable in the mind of the beholder perhaps?

 
Gabriel lifts a pale hand and extends one index finger. He places this finger against my temple. The second he makes contact, I see Jesse’s face. She’s so clear to me, I can count her eyelashes. Her dark hair is spread over the snow. Her face is pale except for the red flush to her cheeks. With her eyes closed, she lays cocooned in her shield with her hands at her side. She looks like a cursed princess in a fairytale.

  She’s dreaming.

  And I know exactly where she is.

  My eyes fly open to find him still standing there.

  Hurry. His eyes are dark blue. It reminds me of a summer sky at midnight, complete with a halo around the moon.

  Nikki’s voice breaks the spell. “Good news: Maisie’s okay. The doctors insist she’ll make it. Bad news: She’s asking about Jesse. I wasn’t sure how much you wanted to tell her or…”

  I blink and Gabriel’s gone.

  I spin twice but he’s truly gone. It’s only Nikki, Gloria, and I in the hotel room.

  “What’s happening?” Nikki asks. She stands in the doorway with two steaming Styrofoam cups.

  I don’t answer her. I grab my coat off the back of the chair and Gloria’s sketchbook.

  “We have to go. Now.”

  Nikki arches an eyebrow. “Where?”

  I don’t answer.

  I’m already running down the hospital hallway, dodging wheelchairs and staff. I’m determined not to waste the precious time we have left.

  Keep reading for a special preview of Shadows in the Water, a new supernatural thriller series by Kory M. Shrum.

  “No, no, no.” Her daughter’s hand shot out and seized Courtney’s slacks. “Don’t leave me.”

  “Jesus Christ.” She tugged her pants from Louie’s dripping grip and shoved her back into the tub by her shoulders. “What is it with you and water? It isn’t going to kill you. You won’t drown! And I have to finish dinner before your father gets home.”

  Louie’s chest collapsed with sobs. “Please. Please don’t go.”

  “Stop crying. You’re too old to be crying like this.”

  Louie recoiled like a kicked dog, her body hunching into a C-curve.