that?”
Chapter Four
“Why me?” Greg kicked the bench, then he kicked an empty cola can, and finally he picked up a large stone and randomly hurled it. “What did I do?”
“You were curious,” said Mike. “And you were, like a jackdaw, attracted to the shiny and the bright.”
“And now I always have to have this…” Greg gestured at his jacket pocket, “…with me?”
“Forever. Yes. Yes, you do.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer!” Although he couldn’t help feeling freaked out, Greg was also angry. He hated being told what to do, especially for no good reason. “Tell me what this is all about – now!”
“Very well.” Mike, it was obvious, was not smiling any more. His voice had turned cold and steely. “I am one of the Reapers, a Collector of Souls, here since the birth of Life itself. We have never been able to be everywhere and have always needed human Watchers. They are our eyes in every corner of the Earth. You, Gregory, are now a part of an ancient and noble family.”
“I’m already part of a family, I don’t need another one – especially not a noble and ancient one, thanks very much!” Greg hissed, aware that he could now see more people in the park, and was in danger of being found talking to himself. “And what are you on about? What’s a Reaper, and what does all that watching stuff actually mean? What do I have to do – and if this is a job, right, what do I get paid?”
“You are merely a conduit, a channel through which I see, that is all. You do not have to do anything. Through you I see who is ready to leave this life and move on, so I can be there. To help,” Mike said, sounding quite enthusiastic. “And the job is its own reward, young man.”
“I’ll see people who are about to die?”
“Well, they are everywhere you look.”
Greg was, once more, lost for words. Today – which had started as simply an odd day – had just got weirder and stranger and crazier by the minute. And now he was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t actually gone mad, because how could any of this be true?
No matter how much he wanted to believe that if he pinched himself everything would be back to normal, in his jacket Greg could feel the weight (the phrase “dead weight” sprang into his mind) of the device in his pocket. It was there, and he knew that what had happened might be completely bizarro, but it was real.
“It’s not a bad job, Greg. You’ll get used to it, and one day we’ll get to meet.”
“We will?”
“Of course!” said Mike. “One day you’ll look in the mirror, and I’ll know your time has come…”
Chapter Five
For half an hour or so Greg stayed in the park, avoiding people as much as possible. He’d started to think that just looking at someone might make them die. It took him a while before he convinced himself that he was being stupid.
He had a life to lead! He had a home to go to! He had friends he should try and link up with so he could forget what had happened. Because he knew what he really had to do was put all this behind him, and carry on as if nothing had happened. Otherwise… otherwise his life wouldn’t be worth living, and he was not going to let that happen.
With his hands stuck in his jeans, Greg left the park and trudged his way back towards the centre of town. He didn’t touch what was in his jacket, he kept his mouth shut and he ignored Mike.
It was not an easy or a pleasant journey.
On the one hand he tried to keep an eye out for any of his mates (he really could do with seeing a friendly face), but then he kept on seeing people who didn’t look at all well. And not just old folks who you might expect to be about to “pop their clogs”, as his dad liked to say.
There was the pale, bald man sitting at the bus stop, his head in his hands, quietly mumbling “No, no, no…” to himself. The very thin woman
Chapter Four
“Why me?” Greg kicked the bench, then he kicked an empty cola can, and finally he picked up a large stone and randomly hurled it. “What did I do?”
“You were curious,” said Mike. “And you were, like a jackdaw, attracted to the shiny and the bright.”
“And now I always have to have this…” Greg gestured at his jacket pocket, “…with me?”
“Forever. Yes. Yes, you do.”
“Why?”
“Because.”
“That’s not an answer!” Although he couldn’t help feeling freaked out, Greg was also angry. He hated being told what to do, especially for no good reason. “Tell me what this is all about – now!”
“Very well.” Mike, it was obvious, was not smiling any more. His voice had turned cold and steely. “I am one of the Reapers, a Collector of Souls, here since the birth of Life itself. We have never been able to be everywhere and have always needed human Watchers. They are our eyes in every corner of the Earth. You, Gregory, are now a part of an ancient and noble family.”
“I’m already part of a family, I don’t need another one – especially not a noble and ancient one, thanks very much!” Greg hissed, aware that he could now see more people in the park, and was in danger of being found talking to himself. “And what are you on about? What’s a Reaper, and what does all that watching stuff actually mean? What do I have to do – and if this is a job, right, what do I get paid?”
“You are merely a conduit, a channel through which I see, that is all. You do not have to do anything. Through you I see who is ready to leave this life and move on, so I can be there. To help,” Mike said, sounding quite enthusiastic. “And the job is its own reward, young man.”
“I’ll see people who are about to die?”
“Well, they are everywhere you look.”
Greg was, once more, lost for words. Today – which had started as simply an odd day – had just got weirder and stranger and crazier by the minute. And now he was beginning to wonder if he hadn’t actually gone mad, because how could any of this be true?
No matter how much he wanted to believe that if he pinched himself everything would be back to normal, in his jacket Greg could feel the weight (the phrase “dead weight” sprang into his mind) of the device in his pocket. It was there, and he knew that what had happened might be completely bizarro, but it was real.
“It’s not a bad job, Greg. You’ll get used to it, and one day we’ll get to meet.”
“We will?”
“Of course!” said Mike. “One day you’ll look in the mirror, and I’ll know your time has come…”
Chapter Five
For half an hour or so Greg stayed in the park, avoiding people as much as possible. He’d started to think that just looking at someone might make them die. It took him a while before he convinced himself that he was being stupid.
He had a life to lead! He had a home to go to! He had friends he should try and link up with so he could forget what had happened. Because he knew what he really had to do was put all this behind him, and carry on as if nothing had happened. Otherwise… otherwise his life wouldn’t be worth living, and he was not going to let that happen.
With his hands stuck in his jeans, Greg left the park and trudged his way back towards the centre of town. He didn’t touch what was in his jacket, he kept his mouth shut and he ignored Mike.
It was not an easy or a pleasant journey.
On the one hand he tried to keep an eye out for any of his mates (he really could do with seeing a friendly face), but then he kept on seeing people who didn’t look at all well. And not just old folks who you might expect to be about to “pop their clogs”, as his dad liked to say.
There was the pale, bald man sitting at the bus stop, his head in his hands, quietly mumbling “No, no, no…” to himself. The very thin woman
Similar Books
