Chapter 7 #2
“So Adeline was supposed to die?” I turned to look at the other girls for confirmation.
It was Iona who spoke up. “There was…an accident on the lake. Adeline swam too deep or maybe got caught up in a current. It was hard to see from the shoreline.”
“She was drowning,” said Death, stepping in. “Or at least, she would have drowned if not for my offer. That day on the lake was meant to be her last.”
“So she accepted your offer and started killing for you?” I could barely bring myself to say it.
Death gave a grim nod.
“But at the end of that summer, she came home. So what happened then?” I searched Death’s face, and then the faces of the other girls, for an answer that didn’t come.
Iona, Chloe, and Skye looked about as confused as I felt.
But Shiloh and Riley, I noticed, pointedly avoided my gaze.
They knew something. Naomi, too, if her pained expression was any indication at all.
“At that time, my agreement with Adeline was…in a state of transition.” It was as close to an answer as he was willing to give me that night.
I hated how bureaucratic it all sounded, like he had a secret contract with Adeline drawn up, locked away in a file cabinet somewhere.
“In the end, though, she made her own choices.”
It was reminiscent of what Shiloh had said when we were standing on the quarry. Adeline choosing her own fate, conjuring a storm of her own making. “I know she didn’t kill herself, if that’s what you’re trying to imply.”
Death held up his hands, a small gesture of surrender. “I never said that she did.”
I looked to the girls again, still waiting for some explanation from them.
They were the ones who dragged me into this, after all.
“So, what? This is like the Twenty-Seven Club or something? A deal with the devil?” I’d always thought that stuff was all conspiracy, Satanic Panic, Illuminati bullshit. But I wasn’t so sure anymore.
Death looked a little offended. “I’m far from the devil.”
“And we don’t sell our souls in exchange for fame or money.
We don’t sell our souls at all.” I wasn’t sure if Shiloh was trying to defend herself or Death.
“We act on his behalf, ushering people into the afterlife when it’s their time to go, and in return, he spares us from our would-be tragic and early deaths.
It’s not easy work, but…we get to live because of it. It’s a matter of survival.”
“Which is precisely why you’re not fit for this job,” said Death, like an interviewer who was trying to break the bad news as gently as he could.
“Even if I were willing to bend the rules, induct someone who isn’t currently under threat of imminent demise, Roslyn here isn’t the type.
A girl who isn’t particularly attached to the idea of life doesn’t have enough motivation to stomach the work of death. ”
Riley nodded, looking smug. “That’s exactly what I’ve been saying. She doesn’t fit.”
“You’re wrong,” said Shiloh. “Both of you. I know she can—”
Death held up a hand for silence. “There’s no help to be had for it. Even if I threatened her life here and now, she lacks the motivation. I can see it in her eyes. All she wants, deep down, is to be with her sister.”
“There is something else that I want.” Everyone turned to look at me.
“And what is that?”
“The truth. The truth about what happened to her that night. The night she—” I couldn’t finish.
“The autopsy was inconclusive. Two coroners cut her open, and they still couldn’t figure out what happened to her.
But I know that, after she traveled with you guys and came home, she was changed.
And there was a letter that made it seem like she knew something was wrong, but she never told me.
Never said anything before she left for that playhouse in the night, and I—” My voice breaks.
“I just want to know. I want to know what she knew and how she died and why.”
Death smiled, and when he did, I realized he was two steps ahead of me. That he’d orchestrated this conclusion, guided me to it, without my even realizing it.
“Well, that is something, isn’t it? A strange circumstance, but…
interesting in its own way. You serve me, and I give you an answer you value more than life itself.
I have to admit it’s very compelling. But, at the same time, it wouldn’t be fair if you didn’t offer me something in return for the information you seek about your sister. ”
“What do you want, exactly?”
Death paused, considering, but I sensed it was just theatrics. He knew exactly what he wanted. “You could kill for me, like they do.”
I felt the floor shift a little beneath my feet, or maybe it was just my own mind reeling. “That’s cruel,” I heard myself say in a flat monotone that didn’t even sound like me.
“Yes, well, that’s sort of the old MO, isn’t it?
I am what I am. Honestly, you’re one of the lucky ones.
It’s not often that I bargain.” He narrowed his eyes at me as if he were trying to see through my skin.
“I’ll admit you’ve surprised me, Roslyn.
But do you really think you have the stomach for it?
I wasn’t particularly impressed with the performance of your sister. ”
“She’s stronger than Adeline,” said Shiloh, vouching for me. “She has a stomach for this work. You can trust me. You’ve always said I have a good eye.”
“Fair enough.” The man pressed to his feet. He was, to put it politely, freakishly tall. “How about this? You kill for me, and I’ll show you everything, answer every question you have about your sister.”
It was a tempting proposition, too good to be true. “How would you do that?”
“Give me your hand,” he said, extending his. It was large and pale, and there were strange faint markings across his knuckles that vaguely reminded me of Chloe’s stick-and-poke tattoos.
Immediately, I recoiled, fear spiking through me. “Why would I do that?”
One of the girls—Skye, I think—laughed aloud at this. Someone shushed her.
Death pressed his lips into a tight irritated smile. “This isn’t a negotiation.”
“Do it,” said Shiloh.
Still I didn’t give the man my hand. Every animal instinct—that primal part of yourself that acts before your brain has the chance to think—told me not to do it, told me to run away.
Even the thought of Adeline wasn’t enough to make me raise my hand.
Another long beat passed, and when I still didn’t move, he snatched it. His hand was very cold.
He pressed his thumb into the meat of my palm, deep enough to hurt, to bruise, even.
I tried to pull away, but he caught me by the wrist. The pain of his finger intensified, became like a nail piercing through the soft flesh of my palm and between the tendons.
My knees buckled, I screamed, and when I crumpled to the ground, the man went with me, crouching there beside me, my hand still clutched in his.
I heard myself pleading. Adeline’s name tangled behind my teeth. I squeezed my eyes shut, and when I opened them again, I was in the playhouse with her and the man, Death.
It seemed impossible…because there was no room for the three of us within its plastic walls. But we dwelled there together just the same. Adeline was folded fetal against the far wall, still alive, her hand pressed to her chest.
“Go on, then,” said the man, and his breath hung like a ghost in the cold air. “Do it.”
Adeline gazed at me. Smiled through tears. She peeled the hand off her chest and extended it to me. “Please,” she said. “Roslyn, please.”
Terrified, I recoiled, lost my balance, fell back through the door of the playhouse and through what felt like time itself until I returned to the floor of the motel with the man who held my hands and all the girls crowded tight around us. I sat up, and they drew away.
Death released my hand. It struck the floor, limp and throbbing. I tried to move it but couldn’t.
He gazed down at me, less concerned than vaguely disgusted. “Not sure your eyes are quite as sharp as they used to be, Shiloh.”
“Give her time.” I heard Shiloh speak and realized that my head was in her lap, her calloused hand clasped over my brow like she was trying to feel for a fever. “If she’s not ready when the time comes, I’ll handle her myself.”
“That’s not good enough,” said Death. “I need collateral. Your decision to welcome her into this group was a collective one, yes?”
Riley rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean, I didn’t want—”
Shiloh silenced her with a single look, then turned back to the man. She started to speak, but Naomi cut her off. “It was a collective decision.”
Death turned to her with a knowing smile. “You know, sometimes I forget how young you really are. But then there are nights like this one, where you make me remember.”
Naomi paled and began to shake, her hands shuddering. She clutched them into fists, her long painted nails driving deep into her palms, drawing a bead of blood. She didn’t seem to notice the pain, or if she did, she didn’t care.
Death took both of her fists—within his hands they seemed so small—and gently unfurled her fingers.
Naomi stiffened at his touch, her eyes glassing over, and I wondered what visions Death’s touch had conjured. What was he making her see?
The man’s gaze returned to me again, appraising.
“I’m going to put you on a trial run with this group.
You have three weeks to prove your worth.
After the three weeks are over, I’ll return with one last task to finalize our arrangement.
If you carry it out successfully, I’ll take you back to your sister, and every question you’ve ever asked yourself about her undoing will be answered in turn.
” He leaned a little closer. “So, what will it be, Roslyn? Do we have a deal or not?”
I faltered, thinking about those faceless people, their lives at stake.
But were they really? If this man was to be believed, if he was really Death, they would die anyway, with or without my participation.
No one lived forever. And if I wanted to find out what really happened to Adeline, this man was the only one who could tell me.
I knew that the moment he touched me, when I fell through time back to the day of Adeline’s death. Or maybe I’d known it well before, when I first saw him at the quarry, or further back, when the girls first appeared outside my house.
There was no reality where I refused him.
“Okay,” I said. “I’m in.”
“Lovely,” said Death with a broad smile, but his eyes remained flat as stones.
He turned to the other girls. “As for the rest of you, as I mentioned before, a collective decision to welcome Roslyn into the group, defying the terms of our agreement to do so, warrants a collective punishment if this little experiment fails. Therefore, if Roslyn isn’t able to keep up her end of the deal, if she fails this experiment, the consequences of that failure will fall on you as well.
Which is to say, if she fails to pull her own weight, then our little agreement is null and void. ”
“Wait, that’s not fair,” said Riley, unable to contain herself any longer. “I shouldn’t be punished when I don’t even want her here—”
The man turned on her, and his expression was unlike that of any man I had ever met or seen before.
It was a serenity so complete it seemed devoid of both emotion and morality.
He became, in that moment, more phenomenon than man.
A star collapsing in on itself. “If it’s your desire to leave this group, then no one is keeping you here. Is that what you want?”
Riley recoiled. Shook her head.
“Then it’s settled,” said the man, and he smiled graciously, like an actor accepting an award.
“We’ll give Roslyn a few hours to collect herself.
Then you’ll show her the ropes?” The man’s eyes flickered over the girls as if waiting for confirmation that his plan was a good one.
I hated the way he spoke about me as if I weren’t even there.
I had half a mind to say something, but when I tried to speak, I couldn’t find the words or the courage to say them.
“Who is it this time?” Iona inquired, staring up at the man.
“Stewart Gavin. Aneurysm. His residence is in Wisconsin. I’ve given Shiloh all the details.
After visiting him, you’ll travel west. Then we’ll reconvene in Las Vegas three weeks from today.
” Death made for the doors of the motel.
As he passed me by, I caught a whiff of musky cologne and mildew. “Good luck.”