I kept redialing anyway, tripping on a dip in the pavement and losing a layer of skin in the process. I looked down at my knee briefly, just long enough to register that this new body could bleed, before I held the phone out and moved around the parking lot trying to pick up a signal again.
The possibility that I was having a psychotic break seemed more and more likely. Maybe there hadn't even been a train accident.
My head felt funny. Frantic, almost.
I turned around, taking in the small building in front of me. It looked to have about twenty units, all with their own entrances. I could see the sand dunes on the other side. I looked at the key in my hand. A three was hand written on the tag attached.
I knew this area well. It was just a town over from where I'd grown up and still lived. More importantly, Charlie's practice wasn't far from here. It was early afternoon. He'd be seeing patients right now.
A car pulling in startled me as they leaned on their horn, signaling I was in their way.
I moved onto the sidewalk, knowing for a certainty whatever I was, humans could see me. Harold had said I wouldn't be a ghost but if my human body was dead, how could they? Another check for the “psychotic break” column.
I could walk to Charlie's office. If I couldn't get the phone to work, I'd get there in person. If these people could see me, so would Charlie.
If I hurried, I could maybe get there before he heard from anyone else. This whole situation was crazy but he'd understand. Charlie always understood. Always listened to everyone. That's who he was. He'd help me figure this out and then he could call my parents.
If I was having a delusional break from reality, he was a doctor. He would know what to do. I just needed to get to Charlie. He'd make this better.
I broke into a run and realized I could move faster than I used to. That might qualify as a check in the “I'm really dead” column, but I decided to chalk that one up to adrenaline, since I didn't like that side of the list.
My sandals kept sliding off until I abandoned them on the sidewalk and proceeded barefoot.
His office was only a few miles away from here. I pushed my legs until I felt them burn and I then I pushed even harder. If I was dead, I didn't know how long I'd have before they identified the body and started informing the next of kin. And if I was crazy, at least I was getting some air before they locked me up in a padded room.
I was dripping sweat by time I saw his building in the distance. My eyes frantically scanned the lot for his Audi. I was on the verge of crying when I noticed it tucked behind a huge SUV. Almost there, only five hundred feet left and Charlie would help me.
I was running across the street when I saw him walk out the door and head towards his car, phone gripped in one hand, keys clenched in the other. His face was a worried scowl. He'd gotten the call.
I tried to scream to him but nothing came out.
He was going to get into his car before I could get to him. I was going to miss him.
With a last push and everything I had left, I ran into the middle of the driveway exit with my hands up in the air, waving. He'd have to run me over if he wanted to get out.
His breaks skidded to a stop in front of me. But at least he saw me.
He rolled down the window. “Miss, please move. I've got an emergency.”
He didn't recognize me. I'd already feared that might be the case. I didn't know what my face looked like but if my hands were any indication, it would be different as well. How could I explain that one away? A definite check for the “I'm really dead” column.
I ran around to his door. Before I could touch the handle, I tripped and skidded to the ground.
I looked up to see Charlie's face torn by indecision. I knew he wanted to leave but that's not who he was. He'd get out and make sure I was okay, a stranger fallen on the street.
I'd hoped he'd recognize me. That some part of him would feel the connection there, even if I was different. How could he not sense me on some level? Just a hint of recognition, like when you pass a stranger on the street who you think you know but can't put a name to. But when I looked into his warm eyes, there was nothing, not the tiniest shred of recognition.
Would I have known him if the situation had been reversed? I thought I would – hoped I would – but maybe not.
Just as I expected, he got out and knelt next to me, scanning me in a clinical way for injuries.
“You're okay. Just a couple of scrapes. I've really got to go.”
The second he put a hand to me to help me up thunder clapped loud in the sky. And then a dark shadowing fell over him.
And I knew right then and there, without a doubt, that if I did manage to communicate to him who I was, he would cease to exist as well. It wasn't a knowledge I could explain or put in to words, but the moment he touched me, I felt the impending threat to his life. The moment we touched, it was as if death had laid its cloak upon my shoulders. I would be Charlie's demise. It didn't matter what my past was or my future might be, in this moment, I would act as his reaper.
I nodded and got to my feet, scrambling to put distance between the only person I thought might have been able to help me. With each inch, the feeling of death receded. Charlie would be safe as long as I stayed away from him.
Without another glance at me, he got back into his car and pulled out of the driveway. I couldn't move.
He was gone. My family, friends, career – all of them – just gone. In a single moment, my entire existence had ceased, except for one thing. Me. I was still here.
I'd never touch him again. Never speak to him. He was my best friend and I'd never be able to call him up and tell him about my bad day or share good news.
Correction, he had been my best friend.
“Get in,” Harold said from behind me. “I'll have Hank drive you back.”
I turned to see the Mercedes that had pulled up while I'd been otherwise distracted.
“Are you the reason I couldn't speak? Behind the feeling of overwhelming death?”
He shook his head and I saw a hint of weariness in his eyes I didn't think he meant to reveal. “You give me too much credit. Get in the car. I'll explain.”
But I couldn't move. It was too much. Everything was too much. I felt like the world was spinning around me and I couldn't seem to breathe. My brain wanted to explode but couldn't burst through the bony confine of my skull.
I was losing my mind. My anchors to life were being torn from me and there didn't seem to be a thing I could do about it.
“No, you tricked me.” I stepped away from the Mercedes but I didn't know where to turn. I wanted to run but had nowhere to go.
The door on the other side of the car opened and a man emerged. Dark clothing, dark hair, even his skin was tanned. It fit him. There was a severity to his presence that wouldn't have looked natural in white.
He didn't shut the door after he got out. I might have to add paranoia to the mental break column. All I could think of was he was leaving it open so he could drag me into the car with him more easily.
He had sunglasses on so I couldn't see his eyes, but I still felt the lethal intensity of his stare. I'd met men like this as a lawyer. I knew his type well and could spot it quickly. He wasn't the kind who needed a public defender like me; he was the type pulling the strings behind the scenes. I was used to defending the lackeys of men like this.
If I was no longer human, what did that make him? Was he the source of the feeling of death before?
“Was it you?” I didn't expand on my question. Didn't think I needed to and he quickly confirmed my assumption.
“No. Death isn't my department.” He rested his forearms on the roof of the car between us as he took my measure, just leaning there all too still. “I know you aren't thinking clearly right now but you need to come with me.”
No movement. Did he think I'd be lulled closer by his false stillness?
“No. I don't.”
I watched as he moved around the car, step by step he inched closer in my direction and I moved backward at the same pace, suppressing my urge to take off in a run. Afraid it might spur an instinct in him to chase.
“You need to come with me,” he said, his hands reaching toward me slowly.