Looking at William, Dennis’s suspicion is confirmed, as he rolls his eyes.
But before he can say anything, Dan asks earnestly: “And the Little Angel is gone, right? In the zombies? Their personal life force is dead. Because that’s the one that dies when a person dies, isn’t it?”
“Normally, yes.”
“But you called it back. In the girl that started all this. You called her Little Angel back from the dead and sent it inside her body again, only it was all screwed up. Isn’t that right?”
Mom shakes her head slowly. “That’s not what happened.”
“What was it then?”
For the first time, Mom seems hesitant. Her eyes flash in Dennis’s direction for a brief second. “I’m not … entirely sure.”
“What’s your best guess?” William asks.
This time, Mom is quiet for an even longer time. The others have stopped eating; all of them are giving Mom their full attention, waiting for her to speak her mind.
In the silent pause, Dennis can’t help but be taken back to that awful evening, which feels both very fresh in his memory, yet at the same time like something that happened a long, long time ago.
“When a human dies,” Mom begins, speaking carefully, “the ti bon ange drifts away and dissipates. It merges back into the collective. It no longer is. The gros bon ange then retracts from that body. You can think of it as a wave sinking back into the ocean. What I … what we were trying to do with Nadia was asking the gros bon ange to rise in her once again. It should have been like a rebirth. Because that’s what happens when a human enters this world; the gros bon ange is there at first, it’s what gives rise to the ti bon ange. And it seemed to work. It did. We had called to the gros bon ange and it had come back, it was once again flowing through her, reanimating her body. But …” Mom’s eyes grow distant.
Dennis gets the feeling they’re all holding their breath.
Liv—who has been quiet until now—is the one to break the silence, asking softly: “Then what went wrong?”
Mom looks at her, then shakes her head slow. “The gros bon ange can give life on its own, but it can’t give meaning. It’s like a car without a driver, the engine just idling away. So it wasn’t enough for us to call back the life force, we had to also call back her personal mind. And I believe we could have succeeded. But the blood … it shouldn’t have been spilled. It contaminated the pathway. It shook everything just at the most critical time.”
Dennis can’t help but seeing the blood dripping into the mouth of Nadia—he can even smell it. The vivid memory is enough to make his throat all tight.
“So what happened to her?” Dan asks. “What happened to her ti bon ange?”
“It was contaminated. Or cursed, as you put it. Just like the blood.”
“Cursed with what?”
“I don’t know.”
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” William chimes in. “That’s the missing piece of the whole damn thing, you can’t just ‘not know’!”
“I have no way of knowing,” Mom says calmly. “I can only see the result of the curse.” She nods towards the window. “It’s right outside.”
“Well, take a wild guess then,” William presses on.
Mom keeps staring at the boarded-up window for a moment. Dennis can hear the zombies scratching away out there. Then she says: “When doing rituals, the ti bon anges of the people present touch each other. If one is not careful, their personal stuff can get in the way. My best guess is that Esther’s desperate desire to revive her granddaughter was what flew into the girl’s mind right before it woke up. The fear, the guilt, the self-loathing … human pain can be immensely powerful. I believe Esther inadvertently cursed the girl’s mind at its most vulnerable stage.”
“So did it break the girl’s mind?” Liv asks.
“No. Like I said, it cursed it.”
“Then why can’t the curse be lifted?” Dan asks.
“I feel like we’re starting to go in circles here,” William says, rubbing his forehead.
“First off, because I’m not sure what did it,” Mom says. “It’s just my guess. Curing it would be like treating someone for a disease that’s never been documented before.”
“Can’t you give her, like, broad-spectrum antibiotics then?” Liv suggests. “That’s what doctors do when they’re not completely sure about things, right? They use a drug that works for most things and hope to hit the mark.”
Mom shakes her head. “That would be irresponsible.”
William throws out his arms. “More irresponsible than causing the end of the fucking world?”
Mom’s eyes flash at him.
“Would it make things worse?” Dan asks. “If we try lifting the curse and we don’t get it right?”
Mom shrugs. “There’s no way of telling.”
“I think we should try something,” Dan says. “I think it’s worth the risk.”
“You don’t get it,” Mom says. “We can’t just ‘try something.’ There are no broad-spectrum rituals; you need to know exactly what you’re aiming for, or the ritual will just be empty gestures and words.”
“Then let’s assume you’re right,” Dan goes on. “About Esther’s pain being what caused the curse. Let’s make a ritual that’ll lift that.”
“That would take several hours.”
“That’s okay, we don’t have any plans,” William says with a wry grin.
“It would take several hours,” Mom repeats, while sending William a sharp look. “And there’s only a very small chance it would work.”
“I still think it’s worth a shot,” Dan says. “We’ll help you. We’ll do whatever we can.”
Mom looks at him, and her expression changes suddenly. So does her voice as she says: “I’m sorry for your losses. But there’s no way your loved ones are coming back.”
Dan blinks once. “I realize that. That’s not why I’m here.”
“Why then?”
“To make sure no one else loses their family.”
“That’s a very noble cause.”
“I don’t care if it’s noble or not,” Dan says calmly. “I just really want you to give it a shot.”
TWENTY-FOUR
“Is
