Afterlife BoxSet Read online

  I answer, “Yes. Actually, I’m looking for someone who was admitted this morning—a man with a broken knee.”

  Her eyes cloud. “Oh.”

  “Did he not get admitted here?” I ask, wondering why her expression became somber.

  She sighs. “If it’s the man I think you’re talking about, then follow me.”

  She leads me past a few more rooms and stops in front of a closed door. She turns to me and says, “We had a no name admitted today with a broken knee. I hope he’s not the one you’re looking for.” She places her hand on the door handle and balks. “Prepare yourself.”

  I frown, wondering why I’m preparing myself. Curious, I stand in front of the door as it swings back revealing a room with only one bed. Lying on the bed is a figure underneath a sheet. I stare, wondering why a sheet completely covers a man with a broken leg. I look at the nurse. Her face is sympathetic.

  “Why’s he covered?” I ask. “Didn’t he just have a broken knee?”

  She nods and looks me straight in the eyes. “That was his only major physical injury, but there was something wrong with his mental health when the ambulance picked him up.” She sighs and places her hands over her stomach.

  “What do you mean?” I ask. I can feel the fear rising within me.

  “He seemed spooked or something—like he’d witnessed a real-life horror.” She steps toward the bed. “Before I tell you anymore, come and see if he’s the man you’re looking for.”

  I step closer to the bed, crossing my fingers behind my back and hoping it’s not the man I saw this morning. I watch as she grabs the top edge of the white sheet and slowly folds it back from his face. With each bit revealed, I find it harder to breathe. It is him. He looks ghostly white. I stare at the lifeless form in front of me while lost in dark thoughts, trying to understand how he has died. He was so full of life this morning.

  I hear a faint voice beside me, but I don’t truly hear it. I think I hear it again, but I’m not sure. I continue staring. A hand lands on my arm, and I jump from the contact.

  Looking at the owner of the touch, I find myself looking at the nurse’s sympathetic side. “Is he the one?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “I’m sorry, dear. He must’ve been close to you. You look horrible.”

  I shake my head. “No, not close, but I knew him.” I choke remembering the evil and the potential for good that was within him. “What happened?”

  “He committed suicide. We think it was because of the mental problem he had that I told you about.”

  “What? How?” I stammer.

  Her eyes divert to the floor. “He had a mobile phone on him. He smashed it and slashed his wrists with the glass from the screen. I’m so sorry . . . we couldn’t save him.”

  I feel my jaw drop. I had returned his phone to his pocket after I called the ambulance. I thought I was doing him a favor. I’m devastated. I gave him a conscience, which had put him in a mentally unstable state, but I also gave his phone back. It was his weapon.

  Wishing to be alone with him, I turned to the nurse. “It wasn’t your fault.” I try to reassure her, not wishing to cause any more grief today. “Thank you for letting me know.” I look back at the kidnapper and sigh, allowing my shoulders to droop. “Do you mind if I’ve a few minutes alone with him.” I’m confused. I need space to think before returning to the base.

  Thankfully she nods. “Of course.” She turns and leaves, closing the door behind her.

  I stand over the body and study his face. Everything looks normal. Nothing looks weird or out of place. They warned us that people react differently to receiving a conscience, yet I didn’t expect this.

  Did he really deserve to die? He was far from innocent, but I struggle with the idea that a life was taken because a conscience was forced inside. He died instead of being guided and taught a conscience.

  If the person given a conscience doesn’t commit a crime too extreme, then what happens? Are they still unable to handle the guilt of what they did? They, too, would have the opportunity to kill themselves. What if the person was doing these bad things only because they’re stuck in a bad place? I shake my head. Their conscience would take over, and their guilt would be more than they could handle. There has to be a better way.

  My eyes wander down his arm. I move the sheet and reveal the puncture marks that ended his life. I couldn’t shake the thought that he had good in him, too. Doesn’t that make me a murderer? I thought angels are supposed to protect and teach love, not kill people.

  I stumble over to the chair in the corner and cover my face with my hands. It doesn’t seem right. I shake my propped head. It just doesn’t seem right, I think again. There’s got to be a better way.

  Tears roll down my face. I should go, but I can’t get up. I can’t find the energy to go back to base. Guilt and confusion have zapped the energy from my body. And I’ve to sort out my emotions before facing Archangel Michael again. He can’t see me in such turmoil.

  I don’t know how long I sit undisturbed in the dark room. I’ve lost all track of time. With my head planted in my hands, potential solutions run through my mind. Then I feel an atmospheric change within the room. I look up. Standing in the far corner is my favorite being in my new world.

  “Blue,” I say as I stand and throw my arms around him. I’m so happy to see him. “Weren’t you sent to Paris?”

  He nods and wraps his arms around me. His warmth and comfort seep through the skin on his bare chest, and I move in deeper, trying to get more. He wraps his royal blue wings to encircle both of us.

  “If you’re meant to be in Paris, then what brings you here?” I look up, and his ocean-blue eyes greet me—they’re always so welcoming.

  “You,” he answers. “You bring me here.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask puzzled. We’re friends, nothing more.

  He releases me and steps back . He looks at his waist and clasps a metal loop on his pants. My eyes follow his movement and fall upon the little charm I gave him and Yellow before we left the base. For some reason, the angel in the middle with gold wings is glowing.

  I watch it glow, then fade, and then glow, and then fade. It’s impressive, but I don’t understand how it’s happening. I look at my own charm. Nothing. It isn’t doing anything. “What’s happening?” I ask as I look at him confused.

  “I placed an enchantment on the charm you gave me.” One edge of his mouth lifts in a smile as he watches the understanding flow to my face. “I did this so it’d tell me if you’re in trouble.”

  “Really?” I ask. The attention slightly embarrasses me, but at the same time I feel special.

  He nods.

  “Did you do it for Yellow, too?”

  He wobbles his heads slightly from side to side and shyness emerges on his face. “Well . . . yeah.” He runs his hand through his hair. “But yours burns as well, just in case I miss the glow.”

  I feel my face heating up.

  He grabs my hand and says, “Here, feel it.”

  I allow my finger to touch the surface, and I’m surprised by just how hot it is. “Doesn’t that burn you?”

  “Not really.” He shrugs. “The heat needs to penetrate through these pants first, but I can still feel the warmth. Anyway, what’s going on with you? Why’re you glowing?”

  I pull away and look down. I should be so ashamed, but all I want to do is tell him everything. If he tells Archangel Michael, I could be in real trouble, maybe even thrown into the abyss.

  He touches my chin lightly with his fingers and pulls my face up so my eyes meet his. “You know you can tell me.” His eyes are sincere.

  I think for a moment, and then I begin to spill my secret. “I . . . I’m struggling with our mission.”

  “What do you mean?” he asks. “I thought you wanted to protect the Innocent.”

  “I do,” I say. “I really do. But my first mission has resulted in the perpetrator killing himself.” I study his face to watch the changes in his features as I tell him my problem. So far, I don’t see any judgment.

  Pointing to the man on the bed, I say, “He couldn’t face the guilt of his conscience, so he ended his life.” I look at him searching again for judgment. I can’t see any. I continue, “He had good inside of him, too. Maybe, just maybe, with the right circumstances, he might’ve changed.”

  Blue shakes his head, but I still don’t see any criticism in his eyes. I hold on to hope that he might understand.

  “But we’ve been trained and are under strict instructions to fill these wrong-doers with a conscience,” Blue says. “We can’t deviate or else we break the rules.”

  My hopes crash, and my heart drops. I turn away and face the bed. “It’s okay. I shouldn’t expect you to understand.” I shake my head. My heart is crushed. My best friend doesn’t understand, so neither will the rest of the fledglings at the base. “Why don’t you go on ahead to base? I’ll follow soon.”

  My arm is pulled gently from behind. “Hey. I do understand. You’ve just been through a lot, having your first mission ending in a death, and all, because of something you did to follow your training. I get that. I really do.” He spins me around to face him and looks me in the eyes. He reaches his hand up and strokes my hair around my ear. “But you can’t just not obey the rules. It’ll be the end of you. I don’t want to lose you . . . my new best friend,” he says.

  I look at him and try to smile. His eyes hold concern.

  He continues, “We’ll work it out together. Okay?”

  I nod. I haven’t come to a conclusion, but having someone who understands and share my concerns with—well, that’s a good start.

  “What about Yellow?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “This’s to be our secret. Leave Yellow out of
it.”

  I nod in agreement.

  He grabs my hand. “Come, let’s fly back. Despite your unhappy ending, we did good today. You should be proud.”

  - Chapter Five -

  Down below, our tropical island waits for our return. I scan our old stomping grounds and see that Yellow is back, along with a couple of others. Blue and I land and let our wings air. It’s nice not to have to put them away. We approach Yellow, who’s standing at the edge of the island looking over the water.

  “Hey, Yellow,” I say trying to sound casual. “How’d it go?”

  She spins around to face us. “Hey, Blue and ahh . . . Multicolor.” She squeals and runs forward to give us a hug.

  I smile. They still haven’t figured out what to call me. It’d be a lot easier if the archangels would allow us to use our human names. They have their rules, and they’re to be abided, even if they’re old-fashioned. The archangels had been around since the beginning of time and know best, so no name it is until we earn one.

  “So did you protect the human?” Blue asks, stepping back from her embrace.

  Her eyes sparkle. “I sure did. It was so satisfying.” Her eyes fall on Blue’s bare chest. “Didn’t you go to Paris?” She crosses her arms.

  He nods.

  “And you still didn’t grab a shirt?” She cocks an eyebrow while scrutinizing him.

  He shrugs. “Hey, I went to work, not to shop.”

  She shakes her head, and her blonde hair flicks into her face, aided by the wind. She retrieves a gold hairpin from her yellow bodysuit and pins some of it back. “How’d your missions go?” She looks at both of us.

  “Like you said—satisfying,” Blue says without a pause.

  Her eyes turn to me, and I do my best to concentrate on the joy of returning the girls to their families. I look at her and smile. “It was such a wonderful feeling to help the two young girls back to their family.”

  “You had children?” Yellow squeals. “Oh, how exciting and rewarding.” She runs forward and throws her arms around me. “And you said two?”

  I finish the hug and step back, trying to get some air. “Ah, yes. Well, no. I was to protect one child, and when I was protecting her, I was able to rescue another approximately the same age. It was just luck. You know, at the right place, at the right time.” I feel awkward under the friendly interrogation, and I don’t want to let on about my conscience receiver. I try to change the subject. “So, is Archangel Michael here yet?” I turn away from her to look around and to hide my face. I don’t want to force the happiness anymore.

  “I believe he’s coming back every afternoon to give out new missions to the returned angels. You’ve come back just in time. From what the others were saying, he should be here shortly.” She gazes around the immediate island as if she were looking for him.

  “Have you talked to the others who’ve returned?” I ask.

  “Sure have. Everyone seems happy with how it all went. How’d you find the whole transferring of the conscience thing?”

  “Ah,” I say hesitantly, I don’t want to go into the details.

  “It was a little strange,” Blue answers for me.

  She reaches forward and touches Blue on the forearm. “Wasn’t it just? I saw pieces of their life. It was fascinating seeing someone else’s life flash before your eyes.”

  “Fledglings.” The call sounds behind us. We turn our heads to see Archangel Michael standing nearby.

  “Jeez! Where’d he come from?” Yellow blurts out and giggles, placing a hand over her mouth.

  All the other fledglings are surrounding him. Butterflies fill my stomach, and a tightness forms in my throat. He stands still, watching us intensely as we move forward. I stick by Blue. For some reason, he makes me feel safe.

  When we’re in our positions, Archangel Michael steps forward to the first being on the left. This fledgling is Orange. He stands straight and tall with the orange tints in his auburn hair glowing in the sun. His clothes are different shades of orange, and, unlike Blue, he wears a deep-orange T-shirt.

  Archangel Michael looks him in the eye and places a finger on his forehead. A white light shines from the tip and into Orange’s head. It only lasts a couple of seconds, but it makes me feel uneasy. I don’t understand what he’s doing, but it can’t be good.

  Archangel Michael steps back and places a hand on Orange’s left shoulder. “Good work, fledgling. You have served well.”

  A smile creeps onto Orange’s face. He looks relieved.

  Archangel Michael summons the small cloud in between his hands and reaches in, withdrawing a shiny bean for Orange. Orange takes it and swallows as our leader moves along to Blue.

  Blue stands straight with his royal blue wings folded down his back as the archangel approaches. He places a finger on Blue’s forehead while he looks deep into his eyes. A white light passes through the finger just as it had with Orange.

  I’m panicking. He’s reading their minds. How am I going to bypass this? I can’t let him see my conflicting thoughts over the conscience implants—he’d be so angry. I have to find a way to block it, and quickly.

  Blue’s finger probe lasts only a few seconds. Archangel Michael pulls away and places a hand on Blue’s left shoulder. “Good work, fledgling. You have served well.”

  I’m happy for Blue, but I roll my eyes. Blue always does well. Archangel Michael prepares the bean for Blue’s next mission and then steps toward me. My palms are sweaty, and I’m glad I don’t have to shake his hand. I’m still wondering if I can block my conflicting thoughts.

  His sapphire-blue eyes are boring into mine. It feels awkward, but I’ve no choice. The finger touches my forehead, and a warmth seeps into my skin around that point. I can see my mission in front of my eyes. I see the replay of the man’s life, bad and good, pass in front of me again. I feel the sickness that came with the visions and then the face, the haunted face of my perpetrator. The vision passes to the two young girls and their families and the joy of returning them safely home. I then see the hospital and the perpetrator who’d taken his life.

  The warmth leaves my forehead, and I realize the archangel has removed his finger. He did not see my conflict over the inserted conscience, but I’m not breathing a sigh of relief yet. I study Archangel Michael’s expression, trying to pick up any emotion. He’s unreadable.

  He reaches forward, rests his hand on my shoulder, and says, “Good work, fledgling. You have served well; you saved an extra Innocent as well as the allocated one. But you should never check on the victim of our punishment. You may not like what you find.”

  I can’t hide the frown. I’m confused, but he doesn’t seem to notice. He holds his hands together and forms the cloud. He reaches in to grab my shining bean and holds it out for me on the palm of his hand. I take it and swallow it, my stomach warming the second the bean reaches it. I hope this mission won’t turn out with such a bad ending.

  Archangel Michael progresses along the line of fledglings. Even though I passed, I’m the only one with a correction. The others all get the simple “Good work, fledgling. You have served well.”

  Am I the only one curious about what happens to our perpetrators, or am I the only one who had someone die? I had to see what happened to my perpetrator. The look on his face after the process is plastered across my mind.

  With the final fledgling completed, Archangel Michael stands in front of us. He almost looks proud.

  “Well done, fledglings. You have all protected your Innocents. Go forth and complete your new mission with confidence.” He looks at each of us individually. “Might I remind you to come back to base as soon as you have completed your mission.” His eyes fall on me. “It is not wise, or encouraged, to visit the receiver of the conscience.”

  I try to hold his gaze, but so many mixed emotions are flowing through me. How can I care for one person but not the other when I see goodness in both? His gaze finally leaves me as he paces in front of the fledglings.

  I sneak a quick look at Blue. He turns at the same time. His eyes express concern, but he puts on a smile for me. I can see he’s trying to make me feel better.