Ember X (Death Collectors)

chapter 16

I wait in the holding room for about an hour, a little cop trick before they try to break me. They forced me to take off all my jewelry and empty out my pockets. I’m slouched back in the chair, with my head resting against the back of it, as I alternate between staring at the clock, the brick walls, and trying to see through the glass. My muscles ache and burn from either the wreck or from having sex—maybe both—and I keep massaging my legs, trying to get the pain to subside.

Finally, Detective Crammer enters the room, shutting the door behind her. She’s wearing a simple black pantsuit and her blonde hair is pulled back in a tight bun. She pulls out a chair across from me, sets a folder on the table, and puts on her glasses.

“Ember Rose Edwards.” A conniving grin ranges her thin lips. “So we meet again.”

I straighten up in the chair. “So we do.”

She eyes me over. “Rough night?”

I stare at her with a vacant expression. “Nope.”

She explores the pages in the folder. “Where are your mother and brother tonight? You live with them right?”

“Yeah… my mother’s working at the All Night Diner,” I tell her. “And my brother’s at a friend’s.”

“Do you need to call them?” She shuts the folder and overlaps her hands on it. “Someone needs to pick you up when we’re done here.”

“No, my friend’s brother will come pick me up.” I cross my arms on the table. “My mom doesn’t need to miss work and Ian probably won’t answer his phone.”

She slips off her square-framed glasses and wipes the lens with the sleeve of her jacket. “Do you know why you were brought in tonight?”

I shrug nonchalantly. “Because my car was found at a crime scene.”

“At a crime scene just like your father’s and Laden Miller’s,” she says. “What do you know about Mackenzie Baker?”

“Mackenzie Baker?” Her shocking words throw off my game. “Is she the one that vanished tonight?”

“I’ll be asking the questions,” she warns. “Now what do you know about her?”

“I have a few classes with her, and she used to be the head cheerleader. That’s all I know really.”

“Were you at the party tonight? The one by the lake? A few people said they saw you there.”

“I was at the lake before the party started,” I answer. “But I left when people started showing up.”

She jots what I say on the top of the folder. “And how did you get home?”

“I got a ride from a friend that I called to come pick me up,” I tell her and she scribbles that to her list.

“Who did you drive out there with?” She writes a number on the corner of the folder.

“A guy,” I say and her eyes elevate to me. “Cameron Logan.”

She doesn’t seem to recognize the name, but cops are good at playing dumb. “And who is he?”

“He just moved here from New York,” I explain. “He lives on my street.”

“Was he part of the reason you left?” She puts her glasses back on.

“Partially,” I say with hesitance. “He was flirting with another girl.”

She opens the folder and searches through her notes. “What’s the girl’s name?”

“Mackenzie Baker.”

Her head snaps up. “You know lying is only going to get you into more trouble.”

“I’m not lying,” I assure her. “That’s the truth.”

She reluctantly returns to her notes and pens down a few more notes. Then she closes the folder and slips off her glasses. “Again, we’ll be in touch. I have no doubt about that.” She sticks out her hand for me to shake. “For now, I’d say it‘d be best for you to stay in town.”

My muscles tense as I take her hand. A thick, vile sensation blasts up my arm. Blood and a thousand petals scattered across the dirt. An Angel stands in the center of a mob, stripped of its feathers, and beaten blue. Their face is curtained with a halo of black hair. She steps forward and raises a knife, but a black figure swoops down from the sky and snatches her by the shoulders. She screams as they fly up, up, up and then drops her to the earth.

I jerk back at the X on her wrist. “Who are you?”

She tugs the sleeve of her jacket down and turns for the door. “I’d watch out, Ember,” she says, opening the door with the folder tucked under her arm. “They say insanity is passed down through generations. And your dad was diagnosed with schizophrenia, which can surface at a young age.” She slams the door behind her.

It takes every ounce of strength I own not to jump up from the chair, pick the lock on the door, chase her down and hurt her.

***

Thirty minutes later they release me. They have no real evidence that I did anything wrong, besides not reporting that my car was missing. I go to collect my things at the window and the big-haired lady with bright blue eye shadow hands me a plastic bag containing my bracelets. She turns her back to the window when I walk up and I bang my fist against it.

She glances over her shoulder at me, looking annoyed. “May I help you?”

I hold up a bag and jiggle it in front of the window. “Yeah, I had a necklace in here.”

She spins her chair around and stares at the bag skeptically. “One moment please.” She rolls to the phone and takes her sweet time hanging up. “That’s all that was collected.”

Glancing at the bag, I shake my head. “No, I had a necklace with a big maroon jewel.”

“Well then, it sounds like you’ll be able to find it easily when you get home.” She huffs out of her chair and walks out the side door.

I dump the bracelets on the counter, fasten them on my wrists, and clasp my silver-winged earrings into my ears. “I know I was wearing my necklace.”

Raven and her brother, Todd, are sitting in the waiting room, which only has one other person in it, an older man eating an egg McMuffin. Raven runs up to give me a hug, but quickly stops herself. Stepping back, she zips up the suede jacket over her silk pajama set.

Todd is twenty-three years old and is the spitting male version of Raven. He has spiky blue hair, a lip piercing, and tattoos all over his muscular arms.

“Hey, troublemaker.” He gives me a hug and I inhale through my nose until it’s over. “What the hell did you do this time?”

We push through the glass doors and I bask in my freedom. The sun is awake, the sky a clear blue, and elderly couples stroll up the sidewalk and eat breakfast out on the patios. Pink flyers with Mackenzie’s face on them are plastered all over the street posts, doors, and walls of the surrounding buildings.

“Well, apparently, it’s a crime to crash your car into a lake and then not tell anyone.” I slide into the backseat of his 1980 Pontiac Firebird with a large eagle painted on the hood, and then Raven pushes the front seat back and climbs in

“Wait? You wrecked your dad’s Challenger?” he asks as he climbs in, then he revs up the gas and the engine backfires. “Like, it’s gone?”

Raven exchanges a look with me and I shake my head. She wants to know what really happened, but I don’t want to tell her in front of Todd. The first thing I need to do is talk to Asher. Because I think I’m ready to hear his answers now.

***

Todd takes us to breakfast at Sherry’s Diner. It’s a seventies themed restaurant where they still allow people to smoke. Our waitress is Betty Lou, a middle-aged woman with big beehive hair, oval glasses, and a white apron over her pink dress.

“Hi, y’all,” she drawls with an order book and pen in her hand. “What can I get you?”

Raven and I are sitting side-by-side in the booth across from Todd, reading over the same menu. “Can we have just a second?” Raven asks.

Todd hands Betty Lou his menu and tells her, “I’ll have eggs, scrambled, wheat toast, and a ham steak.”

Betty Lou jots his order down. “I’ll go put this order in and come back and get y’alls after.”

Once she’s gone, Todd gets up from the table. “I’m going to go use the men’s room.”

He struts toward the back area of the restaurant and Raven whispers in my ear, “He’s screwing the waitress.”

I pull a disgusted face. “Betty Lou?”

She rolls her eyes and points her finger at a slender waitress with fiery red hair standing behind the serving counter. “That one… wait just a second and she’ll walk back toward the bathrooms.”

We pretend to stare at our menus, but really our attention is on the girl. Her nametag says, Steph. She’s pretty, maybe a few years older than Todd, but other than that, she seems like his type. Sure enough, about a minute after Todd vanishes into the bathroom, Steph goes wandering back there.

“How do you know about them?” I ask.

She runs her finger down the menu along the list of beverages. “He’s been bringing me to either dinner or breakfast here almost every day for the last two weeks and it’s like a freaking routine. So are you going to tell me what’s up with the police?”

Betty Lou appears at the end of our table and we hurry and give her our orders. She gathers the menu, walks behind the counter, and refills the glasses of water for the people at the bar.

“Before I tell you,” I say in a hushed voice. “I need you to tell me about how that X got on your shoulder.”

She frowns and unzips her jacket to show me her shoulder blade. “It was just a scratch I got when I was making out with Laden. His stupid car had a wire sticking out of it.”

There isn’t anything left of the scratch. “Okay, then why were you acting so… happy after he died?”

She puts her jacket back on and flips her bubblegum pink hair out of the collar. “Something really bad happened that night… Laden almost raped me.”

My heart literally stops, dies and withers. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because he disappeared right after it happened and I worried I’d become a suspect.” She peeks over her shoulder and then drops her voice. “Besides, you have your own stuff to deal with, like death and your mom and Ian.”

“You could have told me,” I whisper. “I wouldn’t have told anyone. And I can handle more than you think.”

“No, you think you can handle more.” She takes a sip of her water and sets the glass back down on the table. “But it’s okay. I talked to Asher about it and he really helped me understand. And that whole psychotic episode I was having was just my need to deal with what happened.”

“When did you talk to Asher?” My voice comes out sharp and I clear my throat. “I’m sorry, I just didn’t know you two had been hanging out with each other.”

“Calm down.” She scoots the utensils out of the way and rests her elbow onto the table. “We’re just friends. And I was talking to him about it because he was the one who saved me from getting raped.”

“That’s… that’s not possible,” I stammer. “He was saving me that night.”

She thrums her finger on her lip. “Well, it was before or after he saved me then.”

I shake my head in denial. “There’s no way he could have made it to both places in time.”

“I’m not sure, Em... Maybe you should ask him because all I know is that Laden is a rapist and I don’t feel bad that he’s gone. And Asher was basically my Angel that day.”

“Your Angel? What do you mean by that?”

She quickly looks away. “It’s a figure of speech, silly.”

“And what about Garrick?” I wonder. “Where does he come to play in all this?”

“Oh, he was there that night too,” she says, staring across the restaurant at a mirror on the wall. Her eyes look big in the reflection. “Garrick and Asher both showed up when it happened. Asher knocked Laden off me and then Garrick took me home. I’m not sure what Asher did with Laden, although I have a guess.”

“Asher wouldn’t kill someone…” I trail off. I hardly know him. Yes, we had sex, but it doesn’t mean I’ve discovered what lies in the darkest parts of his soul. I shake my head. “And besides, whoever made Laden disappear also made my dad disappear. And Asher wasn’t even around when that happened.”

“Maybe it was just one of those freakish coincidences? Or a copycat? And would it matter if Asher did kill Laden?” She focuses her attention on me. “He had me pinned down with a knife to my throat. I’m pretty sure he was going to kill me.”

I stutter for words that don’t exist because nothing can make it better. Thankfully, Todd drops down in our booth and interrupts my need to make her feel better, even though I can’t. He pulls a cigarette out of his jacket pocket and pops it between his lips.

“Okay, so what’d I miss?” Cupping his hand around his mouth, he lights the cigarette and exhales. “Anything good?”

Raven and I let out a loud breath. “Nope,” we both say.

***

Todd makes Raven go home with him to help clean the house, which gives me a little more time to figure out how much I want to tell her. Someone has painted “Murderer” in bright red across our front door. This happened a few times after my dad disappeared, only it was on my car window and it usually happened in the parking lot of the school.

I grab a can of paint remover from the garage. “It’s like a God damn witch hunt,” I say as I work to scrub it off. In the end, half the paint comes off the door, but it’s better paint-less than labeled with hate.

As soon as I make it to my room, I find my cell and dial Asher’s number. It sends me straight to his voicemail, so I text him.

Me: We need 2 talk.

Asher: Why? What’s wrong? Is this about last night… R U ok?

Me: I’m fine. I just have some questions.

Asher: Out running errands. Can I talk to u tomorrow at the dance?

Me: Dance??? WTF.

Asher: Yeah. The town Halloween dance thingy... I saw a flyer posted on the grocery store door. I thought maybe we could go together, like on a date... a real one this time.

I completly forgot tomorrow was Halloween.

Me: I guess. But can I meet u there?

Just in case this goes bad, I’ll have my own ride home. I need to know what the Anamotti is, if he knows anything about detective Crammer, and what he knows about Angels and Grim Reapers.

Asher: Sure… r u sure ur ok?

Me: Yep. I just really need 2 talk to u about something… the thing we talked about the other night. I think I’m ready for the answers. And I have other questions 4 you.

It takes him a second to text back.

Asher: I know you do. I’ll c u at the dance at 7. I’ll b the one dressed as the artist ;)

I start to put my phone away when he texts me again.

Asher: And Ember… last night was amazing. I don’t want to lose you…. I want every night to be like last night

I’m not sure what to think of the message, but I know what my body sure as hell thinks. It’s already getting riled up just thinking about him. Please, oh please, don’t let him be a serial killer. I like him too much. I toss the phone on my bed. It’s the afternoon but I’m exhausted and I start to climb into bed to get some rest.

“Ian!” My mom’s scream echoes through the house.

Sighing, I stumble out of bed and hurry down the hall into her room. Her bed is unmade and her waitress uniform is discarded on the floor. The bathroom door is shut and the knob is covered with blood.

I pad up to the door. “Mom? Are you in there?”

She sobs from the other side. “Go away… I want Ian.”

I jiggle the doorknob and jerk on the door. “Mom, unlock the door. Ian’s not here right now, but I am.”

“No!” she screams. “I don’t want you here. You’re a killer! You’re a killer! You killed your grandma!”

I hammer my fist against the door. “Mom, please just open the door up. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

Something hits the other side of the door and I hear the sound of glass shattering. I run into my room, grab my phone off the dresser, and call Ian on my way back to her bedroom.

He picks up after three rings. Music blares in the background. “Yo, yo, yo. What up?” He’s drunk and it’s barely past lunch time.

“You need to come home,” I demand. “Now. Mom’s having another one of her meltdowns and she only wants to talk to you.”

“What?” He suddenly sounds sober.

“She locked herself in…” I trail off as I enter my mom’s room. The bathroom door is open. “Ian, just get here now. And get someone sober to drive you.”

“Okay,” he says, frazzled. “I’ll be there in ten.”

I hang up, toss the phone on the bed, and check inside the bathroom. The white tile is obscured with fragments of glass and the sink and mirror are stained with blood. The shower curtain is torn from the rod and pills scatter the inside of the bathtub.

“Mom.” I step back into the bedroom and glance under the bed. “Ian’s on his way, and he told me to tell you that it was okay to talk to me.” I pad over to the closet door and throw it open. “Mom?”

“I’m not in there.” Her chillingly numb voice floats over my shoulder.

I spin around and press my hand against my heart, tripping backwards. “You scared the shit out of me.”

She’s just outside the doorway with a pair of scissors in her hand. An X on her forehead drips blood into her eyes and the entire front of her shirt is drenched in blood. “It’s not okay to be around you at all.” Her eyes are unemotional, as if she’s detached from reality. Blood trickles from her wrists as she raises the scissors above her head. “You’re a killer! The cops think so! And Grandma knew, even though she wasn’t thinking rationally. But you did it anyway.”

I hold my hands in front of me and slowly back up, reaching for my phone on the bed. “Mom, how many of those pills did you take?”

“Enough to numb the pain—he told me I had to.” She walks into the room, then pauses, slanting back as if someone is whispering in her ear. “Yes, I know, but she’s not… Okay, I will try.” Her soulless gaze locks on me. “Ember, my dear child, why did you ever have to be born? Ian was fine and your father and I were so happy his disorder did not pass along to him. But then you arrived, and we could see it in your eyes. The way you talked to the air and whispered secrets to the plants while you drained their life away.”

“I…” Does she know about me? “Mom, what are you talking about?” I continue to feel around for my phone. “And Dad didn’t have schizophrenia, everyone just thought he did.”

“I’m not talking about schizophrenia!” she shrieks, her face bright red, and her veins bulging. “I’m talking about a curse passed along to you.”

My fingers brush the edge of the phone. “Mom, just calm down—”

She barrels forward with the scissors pointed out in front of her. I leap on the bed and bolt for the bathroom, but she skitters around the bed and grabs my legs, jerking them out from under me. I fall on my back and she raises her arm up and sinks the scissors into my chest.

“Mom…” A river of blood streams out of my chest and I gasp for air.

She leans over me, watching me expectantly, like she’s waiting for something miraculous to happen. “I’m sorry, my sweet baby, but he made me do it. Death is more powerful than the mind.” She brushes my hair back.

Blood floods my throat and pours out of my mouth as I yank the scissors out of my chest. “Mom…”

She places her hand over my heart. “Go ahead, take it. I know you can. You did it with your grandma.”

Blood continues to stream out the hole in my chest and runs like a river over her hand. I look into her eyes, wondering if it’s really her in there or if tonight her mind finally took the final flight.

Thump, thump, thump, thump. My heart sings a song as it dies.

“Take it, Ember,” she begs, her eyes wide. “Before it’s too late.”

My eyes close as my heart sings the last lyric, my veins hollow out, and my lungs shrivel. I start to let myself drift to sleep—or death—when I sense someone else’s presence in the room and I force my eyelids open.

The Grim Reaper lurks behind my mother, concealed under his hood, his dark eyes on me. He whispers something in her ear and then steps back.

“It’s time,” she tells me with her hand extended toward me. “Please, Emmy. It’s time. The grains of sand have expired and my hourglass is empty.”

“Take it, Ember,” the Grim Reaper tempts with an unnerving grin. “Take her life.”

I feel the thunder of her heart attack with the silence of mine. Her blood mixes in my veins and fills my lungs back up. I gasp for air and watch in horror as her skin wrinkles to a lady twice her age.

“Mommy.” I throw her hand off my chest and she collapses to the floor. I hover above her, checking her wrist for a pulse. She looks so old and frail… so… lifeless.

The Reaper watches me from the corner of the room, leaning against the wall, seeming pleased.

I throw a shoe at him. “I hate you! You ruined my f*cking life!”

“What the hell?” someone says from behind me.

I glance back and Ian is standing right behind me. His eyes are opened wide and are filled with helplessness as he stares at our mother, lying dead on the floor.

The Grim Reaper’s laugh echoes through my head as he sinks away through the bedroom wall.

“Call a damn ambulance!” I yell at Ian and start CPR on my mom, pushing on her chest, pleading for her heart to beat.

He blinks dazedly and quickly takes his phone out of his pocket. Tears pool in my eyes as I pump my mom’s chest and breathe for her. I keep going, refusing to stop until the paramedics arrive and take over. But even when they roll her away on the stretcher, she still isn’t breathing on her own. And she is still so aged.

They wheel her out into the ambulance and speed off to the hospital with their lights flashing. Ian and I hop in his car and he hands me his jacket. I slip it on and cover up the blood on my shirt. But I can’t hide the blood on my hands.

That will be there forever.