Chasing Before (6 page)

“Exactly. I’ve evolved. I know I can’t die, and so I can’t.”

“But Neil—”

“Don’t be scared. I’m sure they got him to a healer in time.”

“What can a healer do if all the physical stuff doesn’t matter?”

“Healers enter a traumatized person’s head and convince them they’re not dying.” Autumn taps her forehead. “It doesn’t always work. Depends on the healer’s talent. But for some, the power of suggestion is truly a skill.”

“Libby fixed my hearing.”

“Really? Hmmm.” She stops and seems to ponder this for a moment. “Can you walk on your own now?”

Autumn’s explanation has helped me to make sense of things. I tell myself I feel fine, and even start to believe it. “Yes, I think so.”

She disentangles from me in one smooth motion, and I sway a bit on my feet before taking a deep breath to steady myself. I run my hand over the broken right strap of my dress to repair it, but I don’t attempt a full overhaul yet. There are more important things to use my energy on right now than my appearance, such as helping Neil.

We reach the big double glass doors of my dorm. Autumn raises her arm, and the doors open for us. It’s impressive.

We enter the foyer and turn right immediately into a large common room. Cots are set up in a triage situation, with about a dozen bodies lying down and three healers in long red dresses tending to them. I scan all the faces but recognize only the girls Nate was flirting with before. They’re totally knocked out.

“Neil’s not here,” I say to Autumn, my voice tinged in panic. “What if they couldn’t save him?”

It’s now clear that Level Three may be even more dangerous than Level Two. I imagined a place of peace. A place I could finally rest. Not one shock after another. Arriving only to hear that the Morati did make it through after all. Discovering I didn’t die when I thought I did. Surviving a bombing. Realizing Neil could disappear from my afterlife at any second.

Autumn hugs me fiercely. “I’ll try to find out, okay? I’m sure he’s fine.”

“This can’t be happening,” I mumble into her shoulder.

“Cash,” she calls to one of the security force guys, stepping back from me. “Did the team bring everyone here?”

Cash strides over to us and bows to Autumn, low and courteous like they do in Japan. Autumn bows too, but not as low. “The explosion damaged only the facade of the records hall. But there’s a mandatory curfew starting now.” Cash’s voice is as slick as his dark hair. “Nate told us to take
Neil to Neil’s room, but everyone else is here. Everyone who hasn’t terminated, that is. Nine casualties so far.” If Neil is in his room, that’s all I need to know. I rush for the stairs and get caught up in the throng of people fleeing to their rooms. The atmosphere is tense. We are so jammed together, the waves of fear and unrest from the bombing cause my teeth to chatter.

By the time I make it to my floor, the crowd is thinning. But when I get to Neil’s room, I come face-to-massive-chest with a burly guy from the security team. “Let me in,” I demand.

I try for the door handle, but he blocks me. I have the urge to kick him in the shins, but a hand grabs me from behind. “Let me talk to him,” Autumn says. “Go on into your room.”

I don’t want to, but Autumn stares me down until I do. Once inside my room, I pace over to the window and look out.

From this vantage point I can see the wide, treelined avenue that separates the dorms from the central buildings and courtyards. Beyond that is the lawn where we stood, where the explosion happened. Except there’s no longer any outward trace of damage. Benches have been righted, rubble cleared away, and greenery revived. There’s also a life-size stone statue of what looks like a samurai. The statue stands out next to the more Western-style buildings.

“I got you permission to visit Neil,” Autumn says, making me jump at least an inch off the floor. I didn’t even
sense her coming in or up behind me. “They’ll knock when they’re ready for you. It shouldn’t take long.”

“Thank you.” I stare out the window, trying to keep myself composed.

“That’s weird. Furukama-Sensei is outside,” Autumn says. “He’s kind of like the president high commander of Level Three, but he never leaves his office in the administration building except for seraphim guard training.”

“Where?” I don’t see anyone.

“The statue. Turning to stone is Furukama’s way of meditating,” Autumn replies.

I look again at the stone figure. “Weird.”

“I know, right? Furukama is by far the oldest human here. He claims to have left Level One sometime in the thirteenth century. Everyone else is from the twentieth century or later, since the older generations retire eventually and ascend to Level Four. No one knows for sure if Furukama made that story up to add to his mystique or if it’s really true.”

“Did Furukama call the mandatory curfew? Does he do it often?” Even though the room is relatively large and empty, the walls seem like they’re closing in on me.

“This is the first time.” She materializes an armchair. It’s my dad’s favorite chair, the patched-up one he always read in. “You look like you need to sit down, Your Highness.” Her tone is solicitous but cheeky, like the court jester she used to play to my queen back when we’d pretend the chair was a throne.

I sink into the chair, running my hands over the worn leather and the smooth wood. Autumn knows instinctively what I need, like a best friend should. I took her friendship way too much for granted, and I have to make it up to her somehow.

There’s a sharp knock on the door, and I dig my fingernails into my palms. A lanky guy enters dressed in black except for an enormous silver belt buckle. He heads straight to Autumn and whispers something into her ear. Alarm flits across her features, but she composes herself quickly. The guy glances at me before exiting and shutting the door firmly behind him.

“What did he say?” I brace myself for the worst.

Autumn doesn’t answer me. She stares at the carpet, her eyes mere slits and her brow furrowed in concentration.

Is this the moment that will divide my existence forever? The moment when “before I lost Neil” slips cruelly into “after I lost Neil”? I try again, needing to know but not wanting to know at the same time. “Autumn? Tell me already!”

Autumn finally looks at me, her eyes shiny and sad. “William, the head librarian, was killed in the bombing.”

I suck in a breath of relief. Not Neil. Not yet. Hopefully not ever. But if Autumn is this sad about the head librarian’s death, they must have been close. “I’m so sorry.”

“So am I.” Autumn sniffles. “Because if William could die, any one of us could.”

six

“WAIT. . . . I thought you said you couldn’t die!” I cry.

Autumn leans against the bare, white wall. “Most things couldn’t kill me, that’s true. But William was one of the most powerful people in Level Three, second only to Furukama-Sensei.” Her lips curl up, but in an ominous way that makes my whole being shudder. “If he could be murdered, we are all in trouble.”

“Is there anything we can do? To protect ourselves?”

“Libby briefed you on the Morati, so you know they’re here.”

I gulp. “Yes.”

“We think the Morati did this. They must have gotten
to William personally, and used their superior mind skills to convince him he was dying.”

“They can do that?” If that’s true, not even having Autumn around is going to keep me safe.

“It’s speculation at this point, but it’s the only explanation that makes sense.” She sighs. “I don’t know what they hope to gain by killing William, but I suspect it was a warning.”

“A warning?”

“To the security team so that we’ll stop looking for them. But it won’t work. This makes us even more determined.”

I’d rather lie low, avoid the Morati altogether. But if Autumn needs me, maybe I
should
help as much as I can. I owe her that as a best friend. “Libby told me I might be the one who can identify the Morati,” I say tentatively.

“She said that?” Autumn’s nostrils flare. “And you believe it.”

She sounds upset, and it puts me on the defensive. “Back in Level Two the Morati thought I was important enough to put in their mainframe. They said they specifically needed my energy for their plan to eventually break into heaven.”

“Really?” Autumn raises an eyebrow ever so slightly. “Why yours?”

“Remember that time I got mugged in Nairobi?”

She nods.

“Well, somehow as I was dying, our energies mingled, and they managed to break through to Earth for the first time. But then I didn’t die. I just had nightmares.”

“Okay, so the whole thing was random.” She shrugs. “It
could have been anyone, so that doesn’t make you inherently special.”

Her dismissive tone annoys me. “I never said I was.”

Autumn curls her toes into the carpet. “Sorry. I’m stressed. I didn’t mean to take it out on you.”

There’s another sharp knock on the door, and I jump out of the chair, ready to run to Neil.

It’s Cash, the security force guy from the lobby. He lets himself in, and as he strides toward me, he’s all smiles. “I didn’t introduce myself before. Things were kind of crazy. I’m Cash.” He bows at the same time that I stick out my hand.

“What’s with all the bowing?” I quickly retract my arm, embarrassed by my faux pas.

“Shaking hands means touching palms, and there’s always the possibility of slipping up and going into a transfer,” he says. For a memory transfer to work, the two people’s palms and finger pads have to be aligned. It never occurred to me before, but I guess you wouldn’t necessarily want to risk being dragged into the memories of every person you meet, even if the chance is pretty low.

“So, can we go to Neil now?” I ask, impatient. “Please?”

His smile falters. “Oh, I don’t know anything about that. Sorry.”

He’s not here about Neil. He’s another visitor for Autumn. I sit back down. I can’t stand to wait another second.

When I don’t answer, he continues. “You’re lucky to have Autumn. She’s amazing. Everyone in seraphim guard training
thinks so, and seraphim reign supreme.” Cash’s mix of reverence and hype reminds me of the campus tour guide who showed me around Harvard my junior year of high school. Someone’s been drinking the Kool-Aid.

Autumn waves away the compliment.

“So you’re in that too? The seraphim guard?” I ask, more to be polite and pass the time than anything else.

Cash scrunches up his face as if horrified I’d imagine him in any other training. “It’s only the most coveted job in the afterlife, even more than demon hunting or spirit trapping.”

Autumn scoffs at this. “Of course it is. Demon hunters are losers.”

Cash continues without losing a beat. “Word is, when you ascend to the next level as a seraphim guard, you get all the special assignments. Supposedly the squad is mostly actual angels, but elite humans also get on the rotation. Will you try out?”

Autumn’s eyes narrow at his question. “Will you?” she asks me.

“No. I’m doing the muse program.” Saying it out loud, in front of Autumn, makes it more real. “With Neil,” I add, because he will recover. He has to.

There’s a third knock on the door, but this time it’s soft, barely there. When the door doesn’t open, Autumn shouts, “Come in!”

A boy with a red baseball cap, the brim askew, takes a small step into the room. He wears jeans and a baggy T-shirt in a pink so pale, it’s almost white. “Felicia? My sister says you
can come in now.” His cadence is gentle, like waves lapping at a boat.

I rise out of the chair, and my body tingles and then goes numb. I teeter forward, and for a second I think I’m going to fall flat on my face. But I manage to jerk my foot far enough in front of me to catch my balance. I lock my eyes on the boy, use him as a lifeline to pull myself across the room.

We walk together the few paces to Neil’s. The burly guard steps aside, and the boy taps twice. A few seconds later a big brown eye fringed with long eyelashes peeks up at us. “Felicia?” asks a girl’s voice.

“Yes. How’s Neil?”

She squeezes into the hall through the door and shuts it behind her. She has a smattering of dark freckles across the bridge of her nose, and she looks as young as the boy. Like maybe fourteen, tops. “Before you come in, you should know that Neil is in a coma.”

“Coma?” I can barely get the word out, my throat is so tight. I hope that doesn’t mean he’s like Beckah, who I found in Level Two, her brain waves only static.

“Not like you remember from Earth,” she says quickly. “The body is a projection of the mind. Anything you feel is not a result of nerve endings but of your mind’s memory of the feeling those nerve endings used to produce. If you’re overwhelmed with pain, then your mind shuts down. In some cases that means complete disassociation from the body, or what you’d call death. In others it means a coma state.”

“Don’t worry,” the boy says. “Kiara’s got this. She’s the best healer there is.”

Kiara holds back a smile and straightens the boy’s cap. She pulls us both into the room. “Keegan’s not wrong about that.” Autumn and Cash slip in behind us.

The room is the same as we left it hours ago, before our tour with Megan. I throw myself into the chair next to the bed and grab Neil’s wrist, running my fingertips over his palm. It’s warm and soft, and tears come rolling down my cheeks.

“I’ve stabilized him, so he’s out of immediate danger,” Kiara says. “And he’s strong. I can feel that when I enter his head. His memories are compartmentalized, like he’s worked at arranging them in a certain way. It’s extraordinary.”

The admiration in her voice makes me grin despite my worry, though I don’t know quite what to make of her words. I’ve never really thought of Neil in such terms before. He always stood out to me for his kindness and his generosity and his passion for singing.

“It’s good you’re here for this.” Kiara materializes another wooden chair and sits down on the other side of the bed, leaning over Neil to pat my arm reassuringly. “I’m going to go in and do a reboot, to try to shock him out of his coma.”

“That sounds dangerous.” I glance up at the door. Autumn and Cash stand at attention on either side of it. Keegan sits on the floor against a wall, hugging his knees to his chest.