death’s that have happened.”
He laughs. How many times have I told you, Ember? You can’t stop death. Death is endless.
“Yeah, death is endless,” I say, steering the car towards the road. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t try to stop it.” I pause, considering if I should ask him my next question, wondering if it might be a mistake by trusting him so much, but what other option do I have. “Cameron, have you ever heard of a Reaper stealing a Grim Angel’s soul?”
That’s not possible, he says. I would have done it to you if it was.
“Yeah, but…”
But what? He presses.
“But what if it is? What if you just don’t know about it?”
He contemplates what I said. What do you know about it?
“Nothing ,” I say. “Other than that if it can be done, and then it could possibly free innocent souls being possessed, like this entire town.”
Maybe… I mean, I don’t know everything about Reapers, he says, which I find a little strange since he is a Reaper. What I’d really like to know is where you learned about this.
Not wanting him to know about the book, fearing he’ll track it down and figure out how to steal my soul, I opt to keep my mouth shut and he astonishingly doesn’t press. I drive down the road and up Main Street towards where the clinic is, at the end of the city. There are people on the streets, coming in and out of stores. Most of them are acting normal, which means the Anamotti haven’t gotten to the entire town just yet. Still, how have they even managed to take over so many people? I mean, when they captured me that night there was only a handful. However they’ve at least got a hundred people under their possession now.
“Cameron, how are they doing it?” I ask. “Taking over so many people? Are there more Anamotti in Hollows Grove than I know about? Or is it something bigger than the Anamotti?” I ask, thinking about the mayor, wondering what he is—if he’s just a powerful human or so much more.
I wait for Cameron to respond, but I never get an answer. I try a few more times with a few different questions, however his silence remains. I should be grateful, getting a break from the Reaper living inside my head except the silence of the car is heavier than anything. I twistedly find myself wishing he’d come back.
Chapter 5
The receptionist at the clinic tells me the same thing as she did on the phone; that my mom left a few days ago and didn’t tell anyone where she was going. Thankfully, all of them seem like they’re in control of their minds, but it still doesn’t help me figure out where my mom is.
As I head home, I drive down a couple back roads and search the areas where I’ve found my mom in the past.
There was a two-month period where she was addicted to meth and spent a lot of time out on the streets, sleeping behind dumpsters and doing God knows what to earn money. I was fourteen when this was going on and pretty much had to take care of Ian and myself, living off money I scrounged up wherever I could. We almost got evicted, but my mom came wandering back, got cleaned up and got a job again, deciding to briefly be responsible. It was always sort of her thing. Off and on she’d take care of us. It sucked—still does—knowing that your mom doesn’t care enough about you to be around and help take care of you, or take care of herself.
The messed up part is that I’m not sure whether or not I’d rather her be out on the streets somewhere, doing drugs, or if I’d prefer something has actually happened to her.
Eventually, I make it home to the quiet and go up to my room to take a nap, but I’m restless and end up simply staring at the ceiling, wide awake. Minutes tick by. Hours. I call Ian, wanting to hear someone’s voice. He doesn’t answer. I check the clock to see if it’s four yet and time to call Elliot. I have two more hours, so I take out the book he put into my bag
He laughs. How many times have I told you, Ember? You can’t stop death. Death is endless.
“Yeah, death is endless,” I say, steering the car towards the road. “But it doesn’t mean I can’t try to stop it.” I pause, considering if I should ask him my next question, wondering if it might be a mistake by trusting him so much, but what other option do I have. “Cameron, have you ever heard of a Reaper stealing a Grim Angel’s soul?”
That’s not possible, he says. I would have done it to you if it was.
“Yeah, but…”
But what? He presses.
“But what if it is? What if you just don’t know about it?”
He contemplates what I said. What do you know about it?
“Nothing ,” I say. “Other than that if it can be done, and then it could possibly free innocent souls being possessed, like this entire town.”
Maybe… I mean, I don’t know everything about Reapers, he says, which I find a little strange since he is a Reaper. What I’d really like to know is where you learned about this.
Not wanting him to know about the book, fearing he’ll track it down and figure out how to steal my soul, I opt to keep my mouth shut and he astonishingly doesn’t press. I drive down the road and up Main Street towards where the clinic is, at the end of the city. There are people on the streets, coming in and out of stores. Most of them are acting normal, which means the Anamotti haven’t gotten to the entire town just yet. Still, how have they even managed to take over so many people? I mean, when they captured me that night there was only a handful. However they’ve at least got a hundred people under their possession now.
“Cameron, how are they doing it?” I ask. “Taking over so many people? Are there more Anamotti in Hollows Grove than I know about? Or is it something bigger than the Anamotti?” I ask, thinking about the mayor, wondering what he is—if he’s just a powerful human or so much more.
I wait for Cameron to respond, but I never get an answer. I try a few more times with a few different questions, however his silence remains. I should be grateful, getting a break from the Reaper living inside my head except the silence of the car is heavier than anything. I twistedly find myself wishing he’d come back.
Chapter 5
The receptionist at the clinic tells me the same thing as she did on the phone; that my mom left a few days ago and didn’t tell anyone where she was going. Thankfully, all of them seem like they’re in control of their minds, but it still doesn’t help me figure out where my mom is.
As I head home, I drive down a couple back roads and search the areas where I’ve found my mom in the past.
There was a two-month period where she was addicted to meth and spent a lot of time out on the streets, sleeping behind dumpsters and doing God knows what to earn money. I was fourteen when this was going on and pretty much had to take care of Ian and myself, living off money I scrounged up wherever I could. We almost got evicted, but my mom came wandering back, got cleaned up and got a job again, deciding to briefly be responsible. It was always sort of her thing. Off and on she’d take care of us. It sucked—still does—knowing that your mom doesn’t care enough about you to be around and help take care of you, or take care of herself.
The messed up part is that I’m not sure whether or not I’d rather her be out on the streets somewhere, doing drugs, or if I’d prefer something has actually happened to her.
Eventually, I make it home to the quiet and go up to my room to take a nap, but I’m restless and end up simply staring at the ceiling, wide awake. Minutes tick by. Hours. I call Ian, wanting to hear someone’s voice. He doesn’t answer. I check the clock to see if it’s four yet and time to call Elliot. I have two more hours, so I take out the book he put into my bag
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