Helen’s eyes sprang open, and she jumped to her feet. She wobbled for a second and stared around the room, looking confused and disoriented.
“Where is he?” she demanded, turning in a complete circle.
“Where’s who?” I asked, laughing.
“Death! I saw Death! Why are you laughing?” she screamed.
“He’s in the kitchen,” I told her. I didn’t know why I was finding this so funny. Seeing Helen so disoriented did give me a sense of satisfaction. Her outward aura came across as impenetrable, but her brush with the Reaper Peter only made her appear more human.
“What? Why is he in the kitchen?” she asked, her eyes wide. “You know what it means if you see Death, right?” Her mouth was twitching uncontrollably, which sent me into a fit of giggles.
“Yes, yes, I know all that. But he didn’t mean to frighten you. He’s here to join us; not kill us.”
I put my hands on my hips. I really needed to get my mother up, so I didn’t have to say this all over again. I walked over and shook her shoulder. Slowly her eyes opened, and after a few seconds, she too jumped to her feet.
“Don’t go setting things on fire now, Mom,” I warned. “Death is in the kitchen, but he isn’t here to hurt us. He’s here to join us.”
My mother let out a big breath. “Well, I suppose that makes more sense. He gave me a fright, I admit.” She brushed off her pants and tidied her hair.
“Trust you to take it like a champ,” I murmured. “He says there are fifty of them who want to ally with us.”
“Only fifty?” said Helen. “That’s not very many.”
“Well, it’s fifty more than we had.” I was trying to be optimistic, and she had just rained on my parade.
“She’s right,” my mother intervened, stepping out of her corner. She swayed a little but caught herself.
“So, he’s here to join us, huh?” Helen asked. “Well, he scared the shit out of me.”
“Well, I can understand that,” I conceded. “It doesn’t help that he can’t talk. All you get is this voice in your head.”
“I’d better go and talk to him,” said my mother.
“His name is Peter,” I told her.
“Death’s name is Peter?” My mother looked surprised. “I’ve known him for centuries, and I never thought to ask his name.”
She turned and disappeared into the kitchen.
“Did he say anything else?” Helen asked as soon as she was gone.
“Yeah, they’re going to come with us to the gravesite tonight to give us protection.”
“That’s nice of them.” She looked bewildered. “Usually Death won’t let us bring back a lost soul.”
“Krista isn’t lost. We know where she is. And Death didn’t take her, so it doesn’t count. She willed herself to an angel.”
“Still, she is considered dead.” Helen started pacing. “I guess we should be happy that we have allies already showing.”
“Yeah, I guess.” I looked at the clock on the wall. “It’s time we got our shit on the road and did a bit more training. We only get one shot tonight, and we need to make sure we do it right.”
****
We practiced all day to get every last detail correct. As twilight approached, we loaded up into the cars and drove to the cemetery where Krista’s body had been laid to rest eighteen years earlier. The ground was damp with recent rain, which in itself was odd because it hadn’t rained at the manor. We walked four rows in, three headstones down, and there it was; Krista’s tombstone. It was worn from the weather, but otherwise untouched. Bits of dead flowers littered the ground around the stone, leading me to believe that her adoptive parents had been there in the last few months to pay their respects.
My mother smiled at the stone then reached out and touched it softly. I could see the sentiment in her eyes as she paid her respects. The moment my mother’s hands left the smooth surface, the wind suddenly picked up. It was so intense I was nearly knocked off my feet. That was when she stepped out of the shadows: a blonde-haired woman in her early forties with her hands lifted above her head.
“You came!” my mother exclaimed, running towards the woman, and wrapping her arms around her.
“I wasn’t sure if I believed you, Angie. I’m still not sure. She’s been dead for so long,” the woman said dully.
My mother called me over. “Dawn, this is Adrianne. She was Krista’s adoptive mother.”
I held out my hand. She hesitated at first, then grasped it firmly.
“Oh God, is it true?” she cried. “Are you really going to bring my baby girl back from the dead?”
“I’m sure going to try,” I stammered as Helen came up behind me.
“Both of you! Oh my! I never thought I would see the day.” Adrianne held onto both of us, the tears streaming down her face. Then she caught sight of Peter and his group taking their positions around the tombstone and gasped.
“Don’t worry, they’re with us,” I explained, trying to reassure her.
“But they’re reapers?” she exclaimed, looking at my mother. “How did you get reapers?”
“Apparently Peter is an old friend of mine from my days on the cloud,” my mother murmured.
“Well, this is a blessing in itself! Even Death is helping to raise the dead.” Adrianne pushed past us and approached the headstone. “What do you need me to do?”
“I just need your power,” my mother said softly, taking Adrianne’s hand. “We have quite a bit of it here. We just need a little more.” She smiled at me. “When the wind picks up Dawn is going to have to fight to keep the flame lit. I’ll need a little extra power to make sure that the wind doesn’t hit as too hard.”
“Anything, Angie. Anything to bring my daughter back.” She squeezed my mother’s hand.
“It’s time,” my father announced, taking his position next to Shawn and Minerva.
Everything was prepared
