AfterLife (7 page)

As she processed her surroundings, fear began to well up
inside her. These men could have any number of uses for her, none of which
boded well. They must be selling organs on the black market, she thought, and
they were going to take what they needed from her.

“Go get Rahul; I think she’s ready,” the first man said. “I
really hope it works this time.”

Kim strained to move but her body felt weak. Then she
realized she wouldn’t have been able to move much even if she could. Her arms,
legs, and head were tightly strapped to the table. She was going to die and she
had no way of stopping it.

A few minutes passed and the second man came back into the
room with two others. “Are we ready,” the taller of the two new men asked the
others as he approached Kim. He was a slender man of Indian descent.

“She’s all yours, Rahul.” The man who had remained in the
room pulled a small bottle from the table and inserted a syringe into it to
extract some of its contents. His aged eyes watched as the liquid filled the
small tube. He then put the contents of the syringe into the IV.

Kim watched helplessly as the liquid slowly dripped into the
fluid that ran from the hanging bag into her body. She felt her body growing
heavier and heavier. So this was to be her end. It had come suddenly, without
warning. When she woke up this morning, she’d never considered it might be her
last. She felt her eyes shut slowly as the light from the room faded.

“Okay Rahul, that’s your cue. Blake, hold her eyes open for
Rahul.”

Kim could see two men standing over her. The one called
Blake was holding her eyes open. The other man, Rahul, leaned close to her and
looked into her eyes. The light faded from her vision, taking the world with
it.

W
es opened his
eyes and looked around the room. It was different from the one he was taken
into prior to his soul-sync with Emily. Examination of his surroundings took
only a few seconds. This room was small and square with solid concrete walls
painted in a light shade of blue. On the walls were framed Escher prints. The
other furnishings were simple. He was lying on a leather cot positioned in one
corner of the room. At the foot of the bed were two bookshelves full of books
and a small desk with a computer. On the opposite side of the room was a small
closet containing a dresser.

Pushing himself up into a sitting position, Wes noticed his
hand was back. It looked great and he had complete control of it, as if it was
never detached from his body. There were no mirrors in the room, but from what
he could tell, his entire body looked much better than it had before his rebirth.
If he didn’t know better, he would have believed he was alive again. Except
that he still didn’t have his sense of touch.

Wes got up and looked through the clothes in the closet.
Most of the clothes in the wardrobe were his. In fact, almost everything in the
room was his – from the books on the shelves to the computer. The only things
that didn’t belong to him were the cot, desk, and dresser.

The hallway outside the room was empty when Wes stepped out.
It was long and narrow with numbered doors on either side. His room was 1124.
Looking both ways, he noticed the hall to the right ended after only a few more
doors, and he headed in the opposite direction. There had to be someone around
who could tell him what was happening next.

At the end of the hall, he entered a large room that looked
like the lobby of a college dorm. Emily was sitting on a chair watching TV and
crocheting. She looked up and saw him.

“You’re up,” she said, putting down her crochet and
standing. “It’s so good to see you in person. Here, come sit with me.” Wes
walked over to the couch and Emily gave him a hug and another smile.

“What is this place?”

“This? Oh, these are the dorms. You have your own room now.”
Emily sat down and started crocheting again. Wes sat next to her. “Was it okay,
the room? Meri and Jordan did the decorating before they headed back to
Chicago.”

“Yeah, it was great. I was wondering who had done that.”

“Hopefully it will help ease your transition. It’s always
nice to have some familiar stuff around. You don’t want too much, though. At
some point you have to give up the past and move on with your life.

“A woman was abducted two days ago,” Emily continued,
motioning to the TV. “We’re almost certain it was done by the Atumra, or Truly
Dead, as I call them. Her husband reported her missing yesterday morning when
she didn’t come home. He thought it was strange that she’d left the house
without taking her car or her purse. This morning they found her body lying on
a bench in Lincoln Park.”

“That’s horrible, but how do you know it was the Atumra?
After all, it was Chicago.”

Emily’s focus was on the TV, but she continued working her
crochet needle. A small chain bracelet with the same medallion Wes had seen on
Meri and Jordan slid around on her wrist as she worked. Wes concluded the
emblem stood for AfterLife.

 “No,” Emily answered. “The whole situation definitely has
Atumra’s signature all over it. She had markings on her body as if she’d been
attacked, but there was no definite sign of death. There were IV marks on her
arms and an unidentifiable compound was found in her blood. This is the second
body the police have found in this condition in a week, and we have reason to
believe there have been more.”

“How many more?” Wes stared at the TV, which was now playing
a commercial.

“We’ve uncovered dozens of similar deaths over the past few
months. The antemorts we know of that are found in this condition are coming
from St. Louis, Indianapolis, and as far up as Minneapolis. I hope, for our
sake, they aren’t close.”

“Close to what?”

Emily ignored Wes’s question. She finished the row she was
working on and placed her crochet in a fabric bag she picked up from the table
next to the couch. “I think it’s time to give you the grand tour.” Emily stood
up. She looked gorgeous (where had that thought come from?), and was dressed as
if to go out for an evening of dancing. Her red hair was combed into large
curls that fell across her shoulders and down her back. Her bangs swooped
across her forehead. Leaving the fabric bag on the table, she moved out of the
sitting area toward a set of double doors. Wes followed. Before they passed
through the doors, Emily turned around. “Like I said, these are the dorms. This
is the main foyer, or Den, and in addition to the rooms on this floor there are
rooms on the three levels below and above this as well. You can get to them by
using that stairwell.” She pointed to an opening between two of the hallways
that branched off the foyer opposite the main Den entrance. She then turned and
continued through the doors.

“We call this AfterLife complex the Hub. It’s a fairly
central location within North America. It’s our headquarters really, and we
bring new members here for the rebirth process. There are other AfterLife
complexes in other major cities and Hubs in other countries but they all
operate in the same basic way.”

Passing through the double doors, Wes noticed the hallway
supported the same concrete ceiling he’d seen while being transported in on the
stretcher for his rebirth. The hallway felt very institutional with its white
walls and tiled floors, and wasn’t as cozy as the Den was.

“Most of the complex is subterranean, which is where we are
now. It’s easier to hide and we don’t have to worry about anyone coming to
snoop around to see what we’re doing here.” Emily led Wes to an intersecting
hallway and stopped. “Down that way,” she said, pointing left down one of the
branching corridors, “is where we conduct the rebirth process on new members,
and down the other way,” she pointed in the opposite direction, “are our
training rooms and Operations Central. That’s where Oscar, our ops guy, works.
In the training rooms we hold sessions that focus on survival as a Mortui and
how to live more symbiotically with antemorts. For example, there are training
programs that teach members fighting, self-defense, and self-preservation
skills that may be useful against other Mortuis. Training in the Hub focuses on
skills that help us as Mortuis. Continued education occurs in the real world.”

“Fighting?” Wes wondered who he would ever need to fight now
that he was dead, and if it would even be a fair fight. He couldn’t feel pain
so if he ever got into a physical battle with an antemort, he could keep going
till the antemort was tired and then get away if he needed to.

“Yes, fighting,” Emily said. “It’s more for self-defense
purposes if you ever find yourself alone with a Truly Dead. They can be vicious
and you don’t want to be caught by them. They’ll kill you.”

Wes laughed. Surely Emily was joking, but Emily didn’t
laugh.

“You can be killed Wes, even though you’re already dead.
Your body will break and it can be damaged. It takes quite a bit to heal a
damaged body. It might even take the equivalent of the lives of three or four
antemorts to fix some of the more extreme damages. Take care of your body.”
Emily grabbed Wes’s chin and looked him in the eyes to emphasize her words. “Do
you understand me?”

“Yes.” He nodded.

“Good.” Emily’s voice was strong and commanding and Wes was
startled by her sternness. She certainly didn’t look like the kind, almost
vulnerable person he’d talked to on the beach. “Until you’re fully trained, the
only thing you really need to remember is to protect your eyes. If you don’t
have them you can’t feed, and if you can’t feed your body will rot and decay.”

Emily turned and continued down the hallway. Wes followed.

“Why aren’t there more people here? You said there were
thousands of Mortuis.” Wes realized he hadn’t seen anyone else since he’d
awakened that morning.

“That’s because we live in the real world. We can’t survive
separate from the antemorts. Although there are thousands worldwide, that’s
really a very small number.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Wes was still trailing
behind Emily, who was passing through a door located near the intersection of the
main corridors. The room they entered was spacious enough that his old
apartment would easily fit inside with room to spare. It was beautifully
furnished with statues and other pieces of fine art. Large wooden desks were
situated in each corner. In the center of the room was a circular sitting area,
or kiva, as he later heard it referred to, that was recessed into the floor by
a few feet. Behind one of the desks was a woman working on a computer.

“This is the office of the Ancestors,” Emily said. “The Ancestors
are the leaders of AfterLife. They are the ones who have been alive the
longest. One of them is always present here at the Hub.”

The woman at the desk noticed them, stood, and walked across
the room toward them as Emily was explaining who the Ancestors were. “You must
be Wesley,” the woman said as she held out her hand to Wes. “We are so happy to
have you here. I’m Anne Marie.” Wes took her hand and they shook.

Anne Marie was medium height, but her heels and professional
attire gave the illusion that she was much taller. Her posture was strong and
upright, also giving the impression that she meant business. She had burgundy
hair that was cut to frame her face, and although she looked very professional,
her smile was kind and welcoming.

“Wes, Anne Marie is one of the four Ancestors at this Hub
along with Caleb, William, and Zach, who aren’t here right now.”

“Zach was here earlier,” Anne Marie said. “However, he had
to leave not too long ago for Chicago.” She turned to Emily and lowered her
voice. “They found another one.”

Emily nodded.

Anne Marie turned back to Wes. “Well, why don’t you come in
and we can get to know one another.” Anne Marie directed Emily and Wes to the
seating area. Once seated, she shifted her body around so she was facing Wes.
“So Wes, tell me about you.”

Wes couldn’t help but feel like he was now in the middle of
a job interview. “Well, where shall I start? I lived in Chicago and now I’m a
Mortui.”

Anne Marie smiled at him, which eased the awkwardness of the
situation. “Don’t feel uncomfortable, Wes. I already know quite a bit about
you. It’s one of the benefits of having AfterLife members in high positions in
society. We can access a great deal of information on just about anyone. What
I’m curious about is not what, but the why. Do you mind me asking you about
your death?”

Wes thought about the question. Such an experience should
seem very personal, but it didn’t feel that way. “To be honest, I was
depressed; I thought I was in love with someone who didn’t love me. I just
wanted the hurt to go away.”

“Love is a strong emotion and if you’re lucky enough to find
someone, you’ll find love is just as powerful for a Mortui – in many ways even
more so.” Anne Marie’s smile faded slightly as she looked down at her hand. She
ran her thumb around her ring finger on her left hand even though she wasn’t
wearing a ring. Wes could tell she was recalling the memory of someone she’d
lost who was still very special to her. “It’s slightly different though and not
chemically driven, but one thing does remain the same. Whatever characteristics
you were drawn to in life you will still be drawn to as a Mortui. You’ll
discover that. Certain individuals will always attract you, lift your spirits.”
She waited for a moment before continuing, “Tell me more, Wes. Why did you feel
depressed about this woman?”

“I tried to tell her how I felt, and then she just
disappeared. I didn’t hear from her for weeks, and I took it as rejection. When
I was dying, I realized that I had attributed her behavior – wanting to leave me
– to everyone I’ve loved. The truth is I push people away. That night I felt
lonely and miserable and didn’t want to deal with the feelings. It’s funny
though, when it came down to it, I didn’t intend to end my own life.”