Read Online Croak by Gina Damico - Free Book Online Page B

fast as you can in a sort of hacking motion and give your wrist a little flick at the end, like you’re throwing a Frisbee.”
    “Then jump through,” added Uncle Mort. “Simple.”
    “Wait,” Lex said. “Jump through what?”
    “Be ready to go in a couple minutes.” He twirled his own scythe like a pistol, shoved it into his pocket, and walked a few feet away, poking at his Cuff. “I just need to call the Bank, tell them you’re ready to go.”
    Lex turned to Zara. “What does the Bank have to do with anything?”
    “Well, the Bank isn’t really a bank,” Zara said. “It’s more like command central for all of Croak. The people who work there are like air traffic controllers, programming our scythes for transport routes to the appropriate targets. Each time a new death is put into play, they relay it out to whichever team is free to grab it.”
    They were silent for a moment. Lex looked up at the ghostly branches of the tree. “This can’t be real,” she muttered to herself.
    Zara looked at her. “Doesn’t get much realer.”
    “But seriously. We really have the power to whack people?”
    Zara let out an exasperated huff, as if she’d been over this countless times before. “We’re not hit men, Lex. We don’t
cause
death. We’re just there to pick up the pieces.”
    “Huh?”
    “Okay, a guy’s head is chopped off. He’s dead, right? But his soul isn’t. Our job is to remove that live soul from the dead body. In the space of a yoctosecond—that’s one septillionth of a second—after death, we jump in through the ether to within an arm’s length of the target, Kill and Cull, then leave.”
    “Then why is the term ‘Killer,’ if the targets are already dead?”
    Zara looked almost surprised at the question. “Gammas are our entire
lives.
Everything that’s happened to us, everyone we’ve met, every feeling we’ve ever felt. A body—even a physically dead one—is technically still alive if the soul is inside. So what a Killer really does is remove the very last part of what makes a person human. If that’s not Killing, I don’t know what is.” She eyed Lex. “Souls live on without their bodies. But bodies without souls are nothing but compost.”
    With that, Zara settled into a patient stance and looked at her fingernails, her silver hair blinding in the sunlight. Lex, on the other hand, felt strongly that she should start screaming. The very curious part of her brain that Uncle Mort had talked about had swelled and expanded so pervasively that Lex feared she’d have to bore a hole in her skull to relieve the pressure.
    Zara turned to her. “Are you having fun?”
    Lex was thrown. “Am I supposed to?”
    “I don’t know,” said Zara with a quizzical stare. “But I bet you’ll do really well here. You’re . . . different.”
    Lex narrowed her eyes. “Different how?”
    “Ready, kiddo?” Uncle Mort interrupted as he approached. “You’re good to go. You’ll do a short shift of five targets with Zara, and then tomorrow we’ll set you up with your new partner.”
    “Zara’s not my partner?”
    “Nope, she’s a sub, just here today to help with training,” he said as Zara removed a Cuff from her own pocket and put it on. “Now, under most circumstances, threesomes aren’t allowed, but I’ll be jumping in for the first target to observe your work. Pay no attention to me, just concentrate on what you’re doing. Zara will call for help if you run into any problems.” He tapped his Cuff. “Cooperate with her, follow her lead, and never lose focus. But most important of all,” he said, his voice lowering, “you must believe with every fiber of your being that these people’s lives have come to a close. Trust that you’re doing the right thing by touching them, because you are—no matter what.”
    Lex gulped. “What happens if I don’t?”
    “Then their souls will be trapped in their bodies forever. Believe me, you do not want to be the one responsible