Alexander Death(10)
“And what are we, exactly?” Jenny asked him.
“We're old.”
“I know that.”
“I mean 'old' measured in eons,” he said. “We're outcasts, leftovers from the chaos before the universe. We've been human, off and on, for maybe a hundred thousand years—maybe longer, it's hard to judge, there are just a lot of lifetimes of lurking around in caves with hunters and gatherers.” He tapped the side of his head. “All those early lives kind of run together. Like we were all sleepwalking.”
“But before that?”
“As formless beings wandering in the abyss?” he asked. “Billions of years, I would say.”
“Then where do normal human souls come from?”
Alexander laughed. “I wouldn't know. They seem like snowflakes to me, winking in and out of existence.”
“Do they reincarnate like us?”
“Anything's possible.”
Jenny frowned. “I thought you would know more, if you remember so many lives.”
“I know plenty. Just not that.”
“I still don't understand this whole 'before the universe' thing.” Jenny was eager to learn. She'd yearned for someone to explain this to her, to make sense of the memory fragments she had brought back from her glimpse beyond death.
“When you're ready, you can see it all for yourself,” Alexander said.
“How?”
“I'm going to show you.”
“When?”
He laughed. “Any of us can wake up and remember what we are. But it's a process. I'm going to help you through that process, Jenny. So you can remember me. So we can be fully together, with both of us knowing who and what we are.”
Jenny chewed on that, not entirely sure she liked the sound of it. The only thing she knew for certain about her past lives was that she’d done plenty of horrible things, which she regretted remembering. She looked around the cockpit and switched to a less-scary subject. “What do you do, Alexander?”
He studied her for a moment. “I live. I look for opportunities. I try not to miss out on the wonders of being human.”
“Okay...but I mean more like, what do you do for work? I'm guessing you're not a waiter.”
“I don't think we should define ourselves by our work.”
“You didn't mind mentioning that you were a pharaoh.”
He smiled at her. “And you were my queen.”
Jenny rolled her eyes.
“I have friends in Mexico,” he said. “They have some special uses for my ability.”
“What do you mean? They need zombies?”
“They do.”
“For what?”
“Agriculture.”
“What, like a zombie ranch?”
“That's the plague-bringer I remember,” Alexander said. “A mind full of curiosity.”
“That's how you think of me? The plague-bringer?”
“Plagues have been a powerful shaping force in human history,” he said. “You were behind some of them.”
“Ugh. And what are you? The dead-raiser?”
“Exactly. You're remembering already.”
“Nope, just thinking. So your opposite...?”
“She can listen to the dead. Pick apart their memories. She listens to the dead, I command them.”
“But she hates you.”
“We've never gotten along very well.”
“Why not?”
“War.” Alexander shrugged. “We've ended up on opposite sides too many times.”
Jenny felt like he was being evasive, but the painkillers made her brain feel like thick oatmeal. It was hard to think straight, or make too much sense out of his words. Then she had a memory-flash of Seth, with the strange girl on top of him, the girl who looked so much like Ashleigh…
She opened the brown pill bottle again.
“Careful,” Alexander said. “Those are strong.”
“I like them,” Jenny said. She popped a pill and settled back in her chair to watch the stars.
Later, they banked into a long, low curve, the plane angling down into the darkness below. The plane's control panel beeped and a red warning light appeared.
“What's that?” Jenny asked.
“Nothing,” he told her. “We're just out of gas.”
“What?”
“Don't worry. We don't need much more.”
“Are we there already?” Jenny peered down. “I don't see any airport.”
“There isn't one.” Alexander turned on the radio and spoke in rapid Spanish. “Jenny, help me watch for the fires.”
Jenny squinted. Below a pair of bright red spots flared in the dark. Then two more, and two more, in straight, parallel rows. She pointed. “Is that what you're looking for?”
“It is. Fasten your seatbelt, Jenny.”