Sixth Grave on the Edge(111)

“This place is incredible,” she said.

“Isn’t it?”

“It’s just so creepy and yet cool at the same time.”

“Right?”

Strawberry jammed her fists onto her slim hips. “Well?” she repeated.

When Cookie took my arm into hers again, I refocused on Strawberry. “He won’t stop what, honey?”

Her chin raised a notch. “I can’t tell you.”

I was getting used to this beguiling creature, much as I hated to admit it, and I asked, “Can you show me, then?”

One shoulder lifted and her attention flitted to Cookie as though just noticing her. “Who is that?”

“Oh, I’m sorry. This is Cookie. Cookie, this is—”

“Her name is Cookie?”

“Yes, and it’s not nice to interrupt.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she studied my BFF. “I like her.”

“I like her, too. Can you show me what Rocket has been up to?”

After another one-shouldered shrug, Strawberry led the way, asking Cookie question after question. I held a flashlight and interpreted as we made our way through the perilous halls. By the time we found Rocket, Strawberry knew just about everything there was to know about Cookie, including the fact that she had a daughter. Strawberry wanted to meet her immediately and made me promise to bring her to see them.

We rounded yet another corner, which led to the infirmary, and found Rocket standing against a wall, scribbling another name into it. Rocket was like a human version of the Pillsbury Doughboy. He towered a solid foot over my head when we stood toe to toe, and he had kind, inquisitive eyes that never quite registered what was going on around him.

“He’s very behind,” Strawberry repeated, pointing to the wall he’d been carving up. But I wasn’t concerned about the names on his list. I was concerned about him. About how I’d left things between us. I wouldn’t blame him if he never spoke to me again. At least Reyes had bought this place for me, so I could keep Rocket and his sister safe here. While he was incorporeal, the property damage he did was quite corporeal. If this place was ever torn down, I didn’t know where he would go.

“Rocket?” I said, inching toward him. He paused and glanced at the floor before continuing with what he was doing. He held a piece of broken glass in his left hand, scoring the wall with it until his scratching resembled a letter of the alphabet, only not ours, not English. I didn’t pay much attention as I glanced around for a sign of his sister. It had taken me years to get a glimpse of her, and I’d scared the life out of her—so to speak—during my last visit. I would probably never see her again.

Though he was very aware of my presence, he continued working.

I let go of Cookie’s arm and stepped closer. “Rocket, I’m so sorry about how I behaved. I had no right to get mad at you or to threaten your sister. I have no excuse.”

“That’s okay, Miss Charlotte,” he said, keeping his gaze averted. “But he shouldn’t be here.”

He was talking about Reyes. “He died yesterday,” I said. “And he came back. Was that why you wrote his name on the wall?”

“He’s very behind. People are crossing over to the other side, and he’s not writing their names down.”

“Strawberry, he’s working like crazy. See all those names?” I asked, pointing to Rocket’s artwork.

“No,” she said, growing frustrated. “Those aren’t people who have died. Those are people who are going to die.”

I blinked in realization. We were in the room he was saving. The only room that, until recently, had pristine walls. Not a scratch on them. Not a single name had marred their surfaces. He’d told me once that he was saving these walls for the end of the world. For when Reyes was going to end the world if I kept him here on earth with us. He’d told me his being here was breaking the rules. It went against the natural order of things.

Rocket spoke over his shoulder. “I told you not to bring him back, Miss Charlotte.”

I stepped away from him for a better view. Strawberry was right. These were all new names, all new carvings. “I don’t understand,” I said to him.

He stopped scribbling at last and turned toward me. When he spoke, his words were a mere whisper echoing in the large chamber. “I told you, he’s not supposed to be here. He’s breaking the rules.” He put an index finger to his mouth as though to shush me. “No breaking rules, Miss Charlotte.”

“Who are these people, Rocket?” I asked, stepping forward to run my fingers along the jagged lines.

“They are the people who are going away soon.”