Ember X (Death Collectors)

chapter 4

My first death omen happened when I was four. My grandma Nelly came to live with us, back when things were somewhat normal and hadn’t completely gone to shit yet. Grandma Nelly was old and suffered from dementia. By the time she moved in with us, she was fairly gone—forgetting things, wandering off in the middle of the night. My grandpa had passed away several years before and there was no one to take care of her. Eventually she started to suffer from hallucinations and forgot who everyone was. The night she died, she snuck into my room and sat down on the bed next to me. I’ll never forget that night—it changed my life forever.

She took off her necklace and placed in my hand. “Here, Emmy, this is yours now.”

The oval pendant filled up the palm of my hand. “Grandma, what are you doing?”

“Do you feel that, Ember?” Her eyes lit up with anticipation as she took my hand and placed it over her heart.

Her heart beat rapidly beneath my palm. I sat up, confused. “Feel what, Grandma? Your heart?”

She excitedly shook her head. “No, Emmy, my life. Do you feel it leaving?”

“No,” I answered and glanced at the door. “Are you okay, Grandma? Maybe I should go wake up Mama.”

“No, no,” she whispered. “You need to listen closer, Emmy. You’ll hear it—my life slipping away. You need to take it, okay?”

There was a desperate, almost momentous look in her eyes, so I shut my eyes and listened to the flutter of her heart, the whisper of her breath, the lull of her blood as it danced through her veins. There was warmth, then coldness as a light flickered inside me and for a moment, I felt powerful. When I opened my eyes, she was lying on the bed and her eyes were shut. She looked peaceful so I let her lay there for a while before waking my mother up and telling her Grandma was gone.

My mom asked what happened, so I told her, and she looked at me like it was my fault. And maybe it was. I had felt her life leave her body and my own life grow. After the funeral, my mom sent me to live with my dad, the mechanic/car thief. He did his best raising me until he vanished, then it was back to live with my mom and my brother.

“Open your eyes,” a deep voice demands. “Come on, not yet. Open your eyes, God dammit.” The whisper alters to a desperate plea. “Please, Ember… Please, wake up… You have to be one of them—I know you are.”

Soft lips touch mine and a jolt of life slams my heart, like a defibrillator charged it to life.

“Take it, please…” the voice begs. “You have to take it.”

A soulful and poetic voice whispers in my mind to bring my body back to life, then the life of another links to every part of me and revitalizes my body. My heart expands and sends the blood pumping through my body again, then a hand presses against my heart and my lungs swell. My eyelids open and water rushes up my throat as I hack up dirty water until oxygen flows through my lungs again. I think I spot my body floating up above me in the trees, but everything’s blurry, like an unfocused camera lens. I rub my eyes, sitting up, and the body evaporates into the night sky.

“Are you okay?” my rescuer asks with a cough.

I dry my eyes with my fingertips. “I think so… How did you…” What the hell was that?

The moon reflects from behind the hazy clouds and rain sprinkles from the sky as I finally look at my rescuer. The gorgeous guy from the party kneels on the rocky shoreline next to me, his slate eyes all over me, taking me in. His black hair is damp and beads of water drip down his pale skin. The silver skull on his necklace glints in the moonlight and his long, black eyelashes flutter against the rain. His beauty is breathtaking and I instantly get caught up in him again and almost forget where I am.

“Did you… did you jump in and save me?” I cough with my hand over my mouth.

He watches me in a way no one has ever done before, like I’m something valuable. “Yes… I thought I lost you for a second, though.”

I eye the cut forehead and the dark half-circles under his eyes that weren’t there at the party. “Are you okay?”

He nods, his eyes doing a slow sweep of my body, as he rakes his fingers through his wet locks. “I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

“What happened?” I smooth my drenched hair out of my face. Did I just die?

“I’m not sure,” he says, befuddled. “I was driving home from the party and saw the guard rail crushed to pieces. It wasn’t that way when I drove up, so I thought I’d check. I saw your car sinking into the lake, so I ran down and jumped in.”

“That was very brave of you.” My lung and throat feel like their bruised.

“I think we need to call an ambulance and get you checked out.” He stands up and brushes the dirt and pebbles off his jeans. “That was a pretty bad crash and you weren’t breathing when I pulled you out.”

I take in the metal fragments of the Challenger dotting the rocks on the hillside as bits and pieces of what happened rush back to me. “I think the brakes went out and then I think someone ran into me.”

His eyes amplify. “And then they just left you.”

I shrug, wringing out my hair. “They probably thought I was dead.”

He swallows hard and then clears his throat. “You have to report this. It’s basically like a hit and run.”

“No, it’s not. My brakes going out are what caused the crash to begin with.” I touch the side of my throbbing head. “Although, I’m not sure how they went out and I just checked the brake pads and lines.”

Did someone cut them? Like the owner of the car who ran into me? Or the creeper with the X tattoo on his eye? But who would want to hurt me? A lot of people, come to think of it.

He aims a perplexed look at me. “You change your own brake pads?”

“My dad was a mechanic,” I explain wryly. “And he liked to teach me while he worked on cars.”

“Was a mechanic?”

“He died a few years ago.”

“Sorry, I know how hard that is. I lost my dad too.” He extends his hand to help me to my feet. “My phone’s in my car. Do you think you can walk? Or can I carry you?”

I love the idea of him carrying me, his lean arms wrapped around my body, my face pressed against his chest. But then he would have to touch me, and the last thing I want to see is how this gorgeous guy will die. “I think I’m okay walking...” I tense as he touches my hand, his fingers grazing my knuckles, then slide down the back of my hand, as he threads his fingers through mine.

Oh my God. It finally happened, after so many years of noises, there’s only silence. No one has ever touched me like this before without death suffocating me and ripping away my oxygen. But there’s no blood, no pain, no expiration date. It’s exhilarating and terrifying, and my body completely and utterly filled with desire. But I have no idea what to do with it.

His eyes remain on me as he pulls me to my feet, and then his eyes do a quick sweep of my body, lingering on my shirt clinging to my chest as he slips an arm around my lower back.

“Are you good?” he asks, and I swear he knows my secret.

I nod and the rain pours down on us as we hike up the hill. My legs feel rubbery and my skin is scratched and torn up. I touch a tender spot on the hollow of my neck and then panic.

“Oh my God.” I whirl back to the lake, cupping the front of my neck. “I lost my necklace.”

He moves in front of me and puts his hands on my shoulders. “I’m sorry. Was it important to you?”

“My grandma gave it to me before she died.” I watch the lake ripple from over his shoulder, picturing the necklace floating to the top. But my imagination isn’t powerful enough to return it and I force my attention to moving up the hill.

“So you never told me your name,” I say as we hike up the loose gravel.

He hand tightens on my waist, lifting my weight up as he maneuvers me over a rock in our path. “Asher… Asher Morgan.”

“Asher. I like that name… Did you just move to Hollows Grove?” I ask as we step over the hilltop and onto the highway. The rain is starting to let up, the ground mush, mud, and puddles. My clothes are soaked and cling to my body. “I’ve never seen you around before.”

“Monday will be my first day.” He steers us down the road, with his arm still around my waist, and walks a line near the guardrail. “I just moved here from New York.”

“Why on earth would you want to move here?” I glance back at the dark, empty road.

He chuckles softly. “For the beautiful scenery.”

I frown at the pine trees bordering the road. “I guess that could be a plus for some people, but I’m sure it’s not really why you moved here, is it?”

“You don’t like it here?” he inquires, evading the question with a cock of his eyebrow.

“No… I don’t mind the low population, but a lot of people do. My best friend Raven hates it here.” I stop as the past hour catches up with my traumatized mind and I nearly collapse to the ground. “Oh no.” I slip from Asher’s hold and take off down the road, stumbling like a drunken person.

He captures my arm and turns me to face him. “You can’t go running off like that—you might have a concussion or something else and your shock’s just numbing the pain. Honestly, I don’t even know how you made it out alive.”

Neither do I. It happened just like my Death Omen said. Yet I’m standing here, breathing, my heart beating. “I have to find my friend Raven… that girl with the pink hair. She drove off with this guy who I… who was drinking. That’s what I was doing… I was trying to chase her down. And I couldn’t get a signal on my phone.” I pat my empty pockets. “How far is your car?”

“It’s just up the road, at the turnoff. I didn’t want to leave it parked in the street and cause another accident.” He grabs my hand and we hurry to the turnoff, where a black 1960s GTO, with red racing stripes, is parked. The door is open and the headlights and engine are running, the exhaust huffing out smoke. He hops into the driver’s seat and checks the bars on his cell phone.

“No signal,” he mutters, chucking it into the cup holder.

I tap my foot anxiously on the ground, eyeing the forest. Rav, where are you? I’m worried.

“Let me take you to the hospital so you can get checked out,” Asher says. “I’m sure your friend’s made it home by now, and if not, you can call her once we get a signal. And you should call the police”

“No thanks. I’m feeling pretty okay now.” Hospitals are overflowing with death and I avoid them at all costs. “And no police.”

“I think you should go. You might feel fine now, but you could just be in shock.” His gaze moves to my head. “And you got a pretty wicked cut on your head.”

I walk around the front of the car, heading for the passenger door. “Can you please take me home? I’ll get my mom to take me, after I tell her about the car.” I pause as another memory resurfaces. “Did you see anyone else driving around, like maybe right in front of you?”

He ducks his head as he climbs out of the car. “I haven’t seen anyone else on the road.”

I grip the door handle as a spout of dizziness crashes through me. “Dammit. I was hoping you might have seen who hit me.”

He hikes through the mud, rounding the front of the car, and stops when he reaches me. “Do you remember anything at all about what the car looked like?”

I shake my head and start to pull the door open. “I only saw the headlights.”

“Here, let me get that.” He extends his arm out and then opens the car door.

“Thanks,” I say, picturing Asher in a fedora and pinstriped suit, like it’s the 1940s and guys were gentlemen.

Ducking my head, I slide into the car and he slams the door shut. The inside of his car is nice. Reupholstered leather seats, a crack-free dashboard—this is what my dad wanted to do to the Challenger. But now it’s gone, resting at the bottom of a lake, along with my death, which I can no longer see, feel, or taste.

I sigh heavily. What does it mean if my death has vanished?

Asher hops into the car and buckles his seatbelt, then he glances at me and frowns. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing.” I fasten my seatbelt. “I was just thinking about my car sitting at the bottom of the lake. It was actually my dad’s car.”

“I’m sorry, Ember.” He gently squeezes my hand and then shoves the shifter into gear, still holding my hand. I tense from the contact, but relax as tranquility eases through my body.

“It’s okay.” I stare out the window at the profiles of the trees as he brushes his thumb across the inside of my wrist and my breath falters. “It was old and falling apart anyway, which is why the brakes probably went out.” But deep down, I wonder if it had anything to do with the creeper at the party or the guy he supposedly saw in my car.

“What kind of car was it?” Letting go of my hand, he cranks up the heat and the warm air feels nice against my damp clothes.

I wrap my arms around myself. “A 1970 Dodge Challenger.”

He lets out a slow whistle. “F*ck, that sucks.”

I shrug again, watching the road as we curve through the mountains and around the lake. “It was just a car. I’ll live.”

“So were you close with your dad?” His voice edges cautiously.

I pick at the black fingernail polish on my thumbnail. “Yeah, we were pretty close. I moved in with him when I was four and lived with him until he vanished.”

“How did he die?” he asks and adds, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not sure,” I say quietly. “The cops never found his body, but they found his car parked up in the mountains and his… blood was everywhere.”

His grey eyes expand. “That has to be hard for you—not knowing what really happened to him?”

I nod, leaving out the details of the hourglass painted in blood on the windshield, the massive X staining the grass in front of the car, and the black feathers everywhere. “It is and I really don’t like to talk about it.”

He offers a sympathetic look and wisps of his damp hair fall into his eyes. “I get it. Even though my mom loves to talk about my dad, it still hurts sometimes.”

“How did he die?” I ask. “If you don’t mind me asking.”

It’s quiet for a moment as we arrive at the rim of the mountains and breach through the trees and out into the valley. The town is silent, everyone tucked away safely in their beds, and porch and streetlights speckle the fields and houses like fireflies.

The speed limit drops and he taps the brake, slowing down the car. “He was killed on the… job.” He avoids eye contact with me, staring out the window with a confused look on his face.

It seems like he’s holding back details. “Where did he work?”

He swallows hard and his knuckles whiten as he picks up his cell phone and checks the screen. “I’ve got a signal now if you want to call your friend.”

I don’t press the subject. If anyone can understand the need for secrecy it’s me. I give him the directions to my house and then dial Raven’s number. After a few rings, it sends me to voicemail.

“Hey Rav, I was just wondering if you were okay, since you bailed out on me with Goth Boy. I’ve had a crazy night and lost my cell phone. But I’ll call you as soon as I get home.” I hang up and hand Asher his phone.

“Okay, so I have to ask and please don’t take it the wrong way, but how did you two end up being friends?” Asher asks, licking his lips. “You seem like opposites.”

“We are, but she’s my best friend,” I reply, biting my nail. “My only friend, really.”

His eyebrows knit. “Your only friend? That’s pretty hard to believe.”

My tone drips with sarcasm. “Really?”

Cranking the wheel to the right, he turns down my street and then smiles at me. “Why does that surprise you? You’re easy to talk to, beautiful, and you like cars.”

I bite my lip to press back a grin. “So I don’t get points docked for making you jump into a lake to rescue me?” I eye his crinkled clothes flaked with dried dirt. “And ruining your clothes.”

He parks in front of my house, a narrow two-story townhome in desperate need of a paint job. “Are you kidding me? You let me fulfill my life dream of being a hero.” He winks at me.

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.” I open the door, stifling a smile. “I’m sure after tonight you’ll forget about little old me.”

“Little old who?” he teases me with a grin.

“See, you’ve already forgotten,” I joke and swing my legs over the seat to climb out.

“Wait.” He leans over the console, his fingers enfolding my elbow.

I pause, angling my head to meet his eyes, breathing in the freedom of his silent touch. “Yes.”

He wets his lips with his tongue. “Make sure you at least go get checked out by a doctor, just to make sure you’re okay.”

Pressing my lips together, I nod. “Okay.”

“And no one could ever forget about you, Ember. Trust me.” His eyes sparkle with a look that makes my skin warm, then without warning he moves closer and gently kisses the corner of my mouth. My blood and adrenaline soar as his hands slide down my arms, my waist and finally rest on the tops of my thighs.

When he pulls away, he looks at me through hooded eyes, but doesn’t say anything. Having no idea how to react, I get out of the car and shut the door, waving as he drives off.

“Yeah, we’ll see if you feel the same way when we cross paths again,” I mumble under my breath, but a smile breaks through as I touch my fingers to my lips.

***

“Yo, where the hell have you been?” Ian hollers from the living room sofa. He’s eating a bowl of Fruit Loops and watching a movie starring people who have thick French accents.

“I told you before I left that I was going to a party.” I slip my jacket off and toss it on the banister.

He glances over his shoulder and his mouth falls open. “Why does it look like you went swimming in a lake with your clothes on?”

“Haven’t you heard? It’s what all the cool kids are doing.” I drag my ass up the stairs.

“Since when have you been cool?” He yells as I reach my bedroom door.

I slam the door, flip on the lamp, and slip off my waterlogged boots. I groan with each movement, my legs and arms heavy, and my head is pounding. “Those were my favorite pair of boots.” I trudge to the closet to put them away, hoping they’ll dry out and won’t be ruined.

Suddenly, the sound of sobs drifts from the back of the closet. I freeze. “Hello?” I pull back the curtain. “Who’s in there?”

Raven rushes out and throws her arms around my neck. “Oh my God! Where were you?”

Rain, water, blood. She can’t breathe. I pat her back, but I’m irritated. “Where was I? I think I should be the one asking where the hell were you. You just left me there. And you left with a guy who I had a death omen about.”

“I know.” Her tears soak the shoulder of my shirt. “I’m sorry, Em. I just thought… Well, I don’t know what I was thinking. It’s hard to remember anything.”

I draw away from her and frown. “Raven, you didn’t drink from a cup someone offered you, did you?”

She bites on her lip, looking guilty. “I needed another drink and you dumped mine in the trash. So I drank one that this really cute guy offered me. Well, except for this weird X tattoo across his eye.”

“Raven.” I take a frustrated breath, reminding myself to be patient. “I love you and everything, but sometimes, you’re an idiot. How many times have we talked about drinking from cups from people we don’t know? Especially ones like what you just described. Because I think I met that guy and he wasn’t cute—he was a creep. But you were too drunk to notice it.”

“I know,” she wails. “And I’m so sorry.”

I feel kind of bad. “I know, but you have to be careful.”

She wipes away the mascara dripping down her cheeks with the back of her hand. “Do you think I was slipped a roofie or something?”

“I’m not sure.” Steering her by the shoulders, I guide her to the bed and she curls up in a ball like a scared child. “Do you remember what happened with Laden?”

She shakes her head quickly and hugs a pillow to her chest. “Everything’s all blurry.” Her eye twitches—her lying tick. “But Em, I think I saw death tonight.”

My muscles tense and my lips burst with a hundred questions, but her cries turn to hysterical sobs. I sigh, deciding not to press until morning when she’s gotten some rest and sobered up. Grabbing some pajamas, I head toward the bathroom to shower.

“Em… why does it look like you went swimming? And what did you do to your head?”

“It’s a long story,” I say and yawn, stretching my arms above my head. “I’ll explain in the morning after you’ve got some rest.”

She shuts her eyes. “Leave the light on, okay?”

***

After a hot shower and fresh set of clothes, I stare at myself in the mirror with my hand over my heart. I died tonight. My heart stopped beating, and then revived, all because of Asher. But how did he save my life? It felt like when my grandma died, and her life entered me.

I tiptoe back into my room. Raven is passed out on her stomach taking up the bed, so I cover her up with a blanket, noticing bruises on her wrists and elbows. Her shirt is torn and there’s a small scratch across her shoulder blade in the shape of an X.

“What happened to you tonight?” I whisper, placing a finger lightly on the spot, and she winces and rolls over.

My brain is growling and my skull feels cracked. I grab a blanket, snatch a black marker from my dresser, and situate on the closet floor, near the wall that displays the rest of my ramblings. As I press the marker to the wall, it’s like my hand is possessed.

Like a feather in a dust storm, with no direction

The Raven flies through life, helpless and omitted

Until night declares and the wind expires.

Then it flies to the land of stones and etchings

And becomes an Ember, breaking away.

I decide my poetry might be off tonight so I set the marker down, but my hand takes on its own life, forcing the tip to the wall again. I scratch down X after X until they nearly cover the wall, pushing so hard it peels through the paint. Then, in the center, I sketch an hourglass.

Once I’m done, the marker falls from my hand and I scoot away from the wall. I blink and blink again, but the drawing stays. Is this aftermath of the accident? Or am I starting to lose my mind, just like my dad?

I fall back on the floor, exhausted. Seconds later, I drift asleep.