I was dead? But I could feel my heart beat.
Limbs going weak, I started to crumple.
«Swell. She's a fainter,» the girl said dryly.
Barnabas lurched forward to catch me. His arms slid around me and my head lolled. At his touch, everything rushed back: sounds, smells, and even my pulse. My lids fluttered. Inches from me, Barnabas's lips pressed tight. He was so close, and I thought I could smell sunflowers.
«Why don't you shut up?» he said to Lucy as he eased me to the floor. «Show a little compassion? That's your job, you know.»
The cold from the tile soaked into me, seeming to clear the gray about my sight. How could I be dead? Did the dead pass out? «I'm not dead,» I said unsteadily, and Barnabas helped me sit up and put my back to a table leg.
«Yes, you are.» He crouched beside me, his brown eyes wide and concerned. Sincere. «I'm really sorry. I thought he was going to flip Josh. They usually don't leave evidence like a car behind like that. You must really be a broken feather in their wing.»
My thoughts flashed to the crash, and I put a hand to my stomach. Josh had been there. I remember that. «He thinks I'm dead. Josh, I mean.»
From across the room came Lucy's caustic «You are dead.»
I sent my gaze to the gurney, and Barnabas shifted to block my view. «Who are you?» I asked as the dizziness slipped away.
Barnabas stood. «We, ah, are Reconnaissance Error Acquisitions Personnel. Evaluation and Recovery.»
I thought about that. Reconnaissance Error Acquisitions… R.E.A.P.E.R.?
Holy crap! A surge of adrenaline shot through me. I scrambled up, eyes fixed on me on the gurney. I was here. I was alive! That might be me, but I was standing here, too. «You're grim reapers!» I exclaimed, feeling my way around the table and putting it between us. My toes started to go numb, and I stopped, my gaze darting to the amulet around Barnabas's neck. «Oh my God, I'm dead,» I whispered. «I can't be dead. I'm not ready to be dead. I'm not done yet! I'm only seventeen!»
«We're not grim reapers.» Lucy had her arms crossed defensively as if it were a sore spot. «We're white reapers. Black reapers kill people before their coin should be flipped, white reapers try to save them, and grim reapers are treacherous betrayers who brag too much and won't survive to see the sun turn back to dust.»
Barnabas looked embarrassed as he shuffled his feet. «Grim reapers are white reapers who were tricked into working for… the other side. They don't do much culling since black reapers don't let them, but if there is a sudden, massive death toll, you know they'll show to pull a few souls early, in as dramatic a way as possible. They're hacks. No class at all.»
This last was said with a bitter voice, and I wondered at the rivalry, backing up until I started going spongy again. Eyeing their amulets, I edged forward until the feeling went away. «You kill people. That's what Seth said. He said something about culling my soul! You do kill people!»
Barnabas ran a hand across the back of his neck. «Ah, we don't. Most of the time.» He glanced at Lucy. «Seth is a black reaper, a dark reaper. We only show up when they target someone out of time, or there's been a mistake.»
«Mistake?» My head swung up in hope. Did that mean they could put me back?
Lucy came forward. «You weren't supposed to die, see. A dark reaper took you out before your coin should have been flipped. It's our job to stop them, but we can't sometimes. We're here to make a formal apology and get you where you're going.» Frowning, she looked at Barnabas. «And as soon as he admits it was his fault, I can get out of here.»
I stiffened, refusing to look at me on the gurney. «I'm not going anywhere. If you made a mistake, fine. Just put me back! I'm right there.» I took a step forward, scared out of my mind. «You can, right?»
Barnabas winced. «It's kinda too late. Everyone knows you're dead.»
«I don't care!» I shouted. Then my face went cold in a sudden thought. Dad. He thought I was… «Dad…» I whispered, panicking. Taking a breath, I turned to the swinging doors and broke into a run.
«Wait! Madison!» Barnabas shouted, but I hit the doors hard, stumbling through them even though they only swung three inches. But I was in the next room. I had sort of passed through them. As if I weren't even there.
There was a fat guy at a desk, and he looked up at the tiny squeak the doors made shifting. His little piggy eyes widened, and he took a huge breath. Mouth open, he pointed.