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CHAPTER THREE -- ITS ABUNDANTLY CLEAR JUST HOW SCREWED I AM

  CHAPTER THREE -- IT'S ABUNDANTLY CLEAR JUST HOW SCREWED I AM

  1

  Ross and Dodd rode in an old service elevator as it screeched and rattled down several floors to the basement. Ross now wore the suit he died in, with it showing little evidence of the grass stains it incurred while he was thrashing about in his death throes.

  Dodd turned to Ross and said, “Here’s what you need to understand. You're dead, but you're not supposed to be. Everyone has a certain amount of time to live before they're destined to die. You died about fifty-eight years and six months too early.” Ross could only stare in angry disbelief as Dodd continued. “There was an unfortunate incident and you were taken instead of the one who was supposed to die.”

  “I’m dead because someone made a mistake? I hope you fired that guy.”

  “The individual in question, Toth, accidentally caused your premature death when he got run over by a bus and was crushed beyond repair. So, yes, his position and existence are terminated.”

  Taken aback, Ross mulled this over. “What are you then? Like my guardian angel?”

  The rickety elevator came to a stop with the sound of groaning metal. After a delay, the doors slowly creaked open. Dodd stepped out of the elevator and answered, “No, I'm a grim reaper. Everyone here is a reaper. Well, except for you. You're just plain old dead.”

  Stunned and confused, Ross exited the elevator and hurried after Dodd as he strode down a narrow hallway crowded with old cardboard boxes and dusty piles of yellowed paper. “Isn't the grim reaper supposed to be a skeleton wearing a cloak and carrying that giant butter knife?”

  “Due to scientific advancements, we don't look like skeletons anymore. We're now able to keep our original bodies well-preserved. Most of us appear in death as we did in life.”

  “Do you really kill people?” Ross inquired with a hint of accusation.

  Dodd sighed. “We're not murderers. We merely facilitate the natural end of each person's scheduled time on earth.”

  “So, what am I now? A ghost?”

  Dodd spoke patiently, as if explaining a complex concept to a child. “No, this is your actual body. When we realized you had been reaped by mistake, we retrieved your corpse before it was discovered. Then we brought you here to reanimate you.”

  They arrived at a battered and stained set of swinging doors. Dodd and Ross pushed through to enter a lab that looked like an old-fashioned morgue. Obsolete medical equipment lay strewn about and a stone operating table covered in black stains dominated the room.

  “This is where the magic happens,” Dodd said as he led Ross over to where an older woman in a lab coat, Dr. Dee, sat at a desk. Her grandmotherly face crinkled with delight when she saw them. “This is Dr. Dee. She put in a lot of overtime to get your dead body functional again.”

  Dr. Dee patted Ross’s arm. “Ross, it's so nice to see you vertical. How are you feeling?”

  “Good, I think. And thanks for doing whatever you did to me,” Ross replied.

  Dodd sneaked a glance towards Dr. Dee’s desk and said, “Skulton asked me to explain things to Ross. Maybe you could go over the part you play in the process.”

  Dr. Dee favored them with a wide smile. “I’d love to.” As she took Ross on a quick tour of her workshop, he smiled at the incongruous imagery of a sweet grandmother puttering around in her kitchen with the decidedly creepy subterranean lab of a demented coroner. “Ross, since you weren't supposed to be dead yet, we decided to reanimate you until we could sort things out. We performed the same procedure on you that we do to create reapers.”

  After ensuring that Dr. Dee was preoccupied with Ross, Dodd stealthily searched the blizzard of paperwork scattered on her desk.

  Dr. Dee led Ross over to the rusty fifty-five-gallon drums stacked in the corner. “These barrels contain the reaper serum. It's what we pump into the dead bodies that are to become reapers. Or into special cases like you.”

  “All this reanimation stuff sounds like some cheesy zombie movie,” Ross quipped.

  Dr. Dee regarded Ross solemnly. “You are dead tissue brought back to life, but you're no zombie. You still retain your consciousness. You are still you, only dead.” She lifted the lid of one of the barrels to reveal that it contained an oily, dull-black fluid.

  “You filled me up with that stuff?” Ross asked with a look of disgust.

  Dr. Dee replied, “Yes, it keeps your dead body functioning more efficiently than when you were alive. Your heart rarely beats. Breathing isn't necessary except to speak or smoke. You don't even need much food or water, but most reapers still eat and drink for the pleasure of it.”

  After putting the lid back on the barrel, Dr. Dee turned in time to spot Dodd rifling through the paperwork on her desk. “Dodd, I already filed my report on Toth.”

  Dodd looked up, caught. “I just wanted to check something.”

  “I'm not at liberty to discuss my findings. You know that. If you’re so curious, you’ll just have to go ask Skulton,” Dr. Dee scolded as she shooed the two men out. “Let me get back to work.”

  Ross and Dodd exited Dr. Dee’s lab and ascended a narrow stairwell. “If you guys took my body from the park before anyone found it, that means no one knows I'm dead, right?” Ross inquired.

  “Yes. Everyone thinks you've been missing for the past four days,” Dodd answered.

  Ross considered this with a frown. “Does Theda think I left her?”

  “Your possessions are still at your house. I'm sure she assumes something bad has happened to you. As far as she and everyone else is concerned, you just disappeared,” Dodd replied.

  “She's probably worried sick and looking for me. I want to go see her now,” Ross demanded.

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  Dodd shook his head. “No, we can’t do that. It's against regulations.”

  “I'll bet killing me decades before my expiration date is also against regulations,” Ross retorted.

  Dodd looked gravely at Ross. “That was an unfortunate accident. One we're trying to rectify.”

  “Do you mean you could fix this? I could be alive again?” Ross asked with sudden hopefulness.

  “Yes, but there's a problem. Your soul was taken when you got reaped.”

  “My soul? I don’t believe in that stuff,” Ross said with a dismissive wave.

  “Your disbelief doesn't matter. Call it your soul, spirit or essence. It makes this mass of flesh into you. And you need it to be truly alive. You can't return to your life without it,” Dodd explained.

  Ross shook his head, far from completely convinced. “Okay, where's my soul at? Let's go get it.”

  Dodd brought Ross into an old, empty locker room. Most of the dusty lockers were missing doors and covered with rust. “While investigating the incident, we found your body and realized Toth accidentally reaped you when he was run over. Your soul should be in his Scythe pistol.”

  “In his Scythe pistol?” Ross asked.

  “We don't use regular scythes much anymore. Now we have a more efficient way to reap souls.”

  Dodd opened his locker and pulled out his Scythe pistol. After checking the safety, he handed it to Ross. “This is the Scythe pistol. There's no need for constant sharpening and it's much lighter than those heavy farm implements we've been lugging around since the dawn of time.”

  Ross gingerly examined the futuristic weapon's blinking lights, tiny keypad and miniature readout screen. “It looks like the barcode reader they use to do inventory at the grocery store.”

  “The Scythe pistol does a little bit more than scan cans of soup on the shelf,” Dodd grunted in annoyance. He donned a shoulder holster and took the pistol back from Ross. “It fires a beam that strikes a living person, claims their soul and then returns it to the weapon.”

  “And that person dies then?”

  “The body dies, but the soul is deposited into the Scythe pistol's storage compartment, the soul cell.” Dodd pressed a button and a silver cylinder popped out. Dodd handed the soul cell to Ross.

  “My soul is stored in this part of the other reaper’s gun?” Ross asked as he studied the soul cell.

  “Yes, but we don’t know where Toth’s pistol ended up after he was run over. We searched the area around the crosswalk thoroughly. We couldn't find it.” After taking the soul cell back from Ross, Dodd inserted it into his Scythe and slid the weapon into his shoulder holster. “It could've landed in a nearby storm drain. We have a crew checking out that possibility.”

  “Is it possible that somebody found it?” Ross asked.

  “Yes. But the Scythe won't function for the living. To them, it would seem to be just a toy gun.”

  Ross was dismayed. “My soul is either in the sewers or some kid is playing with it. Nice.”

  Dodd and Ross walked into a large area crowded with old office furniture, dusty filing cabinets and outdated technology. Other reapers sat at their desks, talking into landline phones and squinting at archaic computer monitors. Despite his situation, Ross smirked as he realized how much the setting resembled a gritty police station from a seventies cop show.

  Dodd sat at his desk and began sorting through the mound of paperwork on it. Ross pulled up a chair next to him and inquired, “If my soul is missing, why do I still feel like myself right now?”

  “That’s residue of your old self, but it's no substitute. You need your actual soul to return to life.”

  “Do I become a reaper if we don’t find it?” Ross asked.

  “No. You need your soul to become a reaper. It's the key ingredient.”

  “If we don't find my soul, I'm trapped and unemployable in the afterlife. And I can't visit Theda. Does that pretty much sum it up? Or is there anything else I should know?” Ross asked forlornly.

  Dodd hesitated, considering his words carefully. But before he could answer, Sappert, a dumpy man with piggy eyes and a rumpled suit, approached them.

  Sappert jabbed a pudgy finger at Dodd. “I saw you leaving Dr. Dee’s lab. You were trying to sneak a peek at her autopsy report on Toth.”

  Dodd gestured at Ross. “I was giving a tour to our new arrival. Have you met Ross yet?”

  Sappert pressed on. “You're hoping it wasn't Toth’s fault. At least this was his last mistake.” Dodd rose to his feet, Sappert nervously backed off while looking pleased with Dodd's reaction.

  “Is this the one I heard about?” The men turned to see Ronoba, a tall, thin woman wearing an evening gown complete with long gloves and a tiara. Ronoba patted Ross's arm comfortingly. “It's positively dreadful what has befallen you. Don't despair, we'll keep looking for your soul.”

  Ross smiled in appreciation at the elegantly-dressed woman. “Thanks.”

  “At least until they shut us down,” Sappert muttered.

  “They’re not going to close our station,” Dodd said with an annoyed glare at Sappert.

  Undeterred, Sappert continued. “I heard rumors from the main office. They're cutting us loose.”

  Ross asked, “Can reapers be laid off?” The reapers’ glum silence answered his query. “Why?”

  “Unfortunately, deaths are way down in this district. The bosses figure the reapers from the downtown precinct can easily take over our workload,” Sappert snorted.

  Bemused by the absurd idea of a Grim Reaper being downsized and what their separation package would look like, Ross asked, “What will happen if your positions are terminated?”

  Before anyone could answer, a shrill school bell rang. “Roll call. Time to begin our shift,” Dodd explained to Ross as everyone headed for the door.

  2

  Ross, Dodd, Sappert, Ronoba and several other reapers sat at long tables in a meeting room while Chief Skulton relayed the morning announcements from a podium with Graves at his side.

  Skulton got to the last item on his agenda. “And finally, remember to fill out your vehicle maintenance forms legibly and turn them in to Graves. Time for your assignments.” He read from a list as Graves handed out the files assigned to each reaper. “Ronoba, you've got case numbers one-one-nine, two-one-three, two-one-six, two-two-six and two-three-two.”

  “We’re getting extra cases again?” Ronoba fussed. “That’s too many.”

  Skulton nodded in acknowledgement and replied, “We haven't received Toth's replacement yet and we're trying to reschedule all of his cases that were left undone. Unfortunately, we still have a few clients walking around out there who were supposed to die days ago. That's unacceptable.”

  Dodd spoke up, “An increased workload will interfere with my investigation into Toth's demise.”

  Skulton admonished Dodd, “Your investigation is over. Toth's demise was an accident. Dr. Dee's report shows he had been drinking heavily prior to the incident.”

  Sighing heavily at the report’s results, Dodd conceded the point but continued to argue. “Even if Toth was impaired by alcohol, there's no way he'd step in front of a bus or pass out in the street.”

  “Maybe he tripped or was inattentive. Either way, he was drunk and screwed up. The matter is settled unless you have evidence to the contrary,” Skulton said, awaiting a reply from Dodd, who only shook his head. Skulton resumed assigning cases as Graves handed out corresponding files. “Sappert, you've got number two-eight-one, two-eight-two, three-one-zero and six-two-zero.”

  Grumbling, Dodd stomped out. Ross, unsure of what to do, hurried after him.

  After Ross and Dodd exited the meeting room, Ross watched with a worried expression as Dodd paced in the dimly-lit narrow hallway, angrily muttering to himself.

  Moments later, Graves entered the hall with some file folders. “You shouldn't give Chief Skulton a hard time. He's under a lot of pressure because of this and other things,” she scolded Dodd.

  “He never considered any other possibilities. He had his mind made up from the beginning.”

  “Do you have any reason to doubt that it was just an accident?” Graves asked. Dodd reluctantly shook his head. “If you find something concrete, bring it to us. Until then, you need to play nice. Okay?” Graves studied Dodd with concern, before smiling when he finally nodded in agreement.

  “Great, here are your cases,” Graves said as she handed Dodd some folders and turned to Ross. “I trust that Dodd has brought up to speed on your unusual situation.”

  “Yes,” Ross replied with a wry smirk. “It's abundantly clear just how screwed I am.”

  Graves smiled reassuringly at Ross. “We’re doing everything we can to return you back to your destined life. Don’t give up hope.” Her piercing eyes fell on Dodd. “I never do.”

  3

  Ross and Dodd exited the reaper station, a drab, nondescript brick building, long forgotten by the locals. They walked along a sidewalk filled with pedestrians. Dodd scowled, still in a foul mood. Ross waited a moment before announcing, “I still want to go see Theda.”

  “I already told you it's against regulations. You can't visit her,” Dodd rumbled.

  Ross remained defiant. “I am going to see her. A what are you going to do about it? Kill me? Oh, wait, you guys already did that.”

  “You can't go. But even if it was allowed, she wouldn't be able to hear or see you.”

  “I thought you said I'm not a ghost,” Ross replied.

  Dodd struggled to remain patient as he answered, “You're not. We're in a unique state of undeath. We have physical form, but the living can't detect us.”

  Ross looked at the other pedestrians. “We're invisible to anyone who is still alive?”

  “Not quite. The best way to explain it is that we are seen but not noticed.”

  “Isn't that the same thing?” Ross asked.

  Dodd clarified, “No. The living can physically see us, but we don't really register in their conscious minds.” Dodd walked over to a woman standing nearby and waved his hand aggressively in front of her eyes. She didn't react at all. “Try it for yourself.”

  Ross, unsure, approached a young man texting on his phone and moved his hand by the guy’s face. The gentleman had no reaction. When Ross flapped his hand inches from the man's nose, his eyes never left his phone. Ross whispered to Dodd, “Anyone who's alive can't see us?”

  “Yes, but you don't need to whisper. They can't hear us, either.”

  Ross flailed his hand in front of other people and got the same nonreaction. “This is so weird.”

  “It gets even weirder,” Dodd said as he gestured around. “Did you notice how no one is walking into us? Even on a busy sidewalk like this, none of them even come close to bumping into us.”

  Ross was startled to realize that as he and Dodd walked directly against the flow of pedestrians, everyone veered around the two men without even looking at them.

  Dodd continued, “Living people don't really notice us, but on a subconscious level they are aware of our presence.” He demonstrated his point by stepping in front of a man walking his dog. The guy and his canine sidestepped around Dodd without even looking directly at him.

  “They avoid us without realizing it? It's kind of a subliminal thing?” Ross asked.

  “Yes, it doesn't matter what we do. Open doors, drive a car, walk through a crowded room, whatever. We're never noticed but are always given a wide berth.”

  Ross was amazed but undeterred. “Even if Theda can't see or hear me, I still want to go to her.”

  “For the last time, that's not going to happen. Just forget about seeing her while you're in this state," Dodd sternly informed Ross. "You can either help me work this case or you can sit on your ass in that depressing recovery room while the adults sort out your situation. What’s it going to be?”

  Ross glared at Dodd for a long moment before replying, “I’ll help. What do you need me to do?”

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