(no subject)
I've posted this before, back when it was 5 pages. It's alot longer now, and nowhere near done.
Chapter 1
Roland wanted to do nothing but watch as the fire tore through all that he could call his. Windows shattered, and burning debris fell everywhere, and he kept thinking “I hope she’s not there. I hope she wasn’t home.” But even as he spoke the words to himself, he could feel his mind looking two stories up, and staring at the 2 windows on the far right of the building, the 2 windows of his apartment that could be seen from the front of the building. He could see the hungry flames licking against his windows, and knew with indifferent certainty that everything he called his own, well, not everything, he hoped, was gone.
It wasn’t until a young sergeant with the local police came up to him, that Roland began to accept the fear that had crept into his heart. After learning his name, the sergeant lowered his voice, and mumbled something into his radio. “Just one second sir,” he said, and stood by Roland, although it appeared that he wanted nothing more than to turn and run. Roland didn’t feel like talking anymore, he just wanted to go to bed. As he waited, his mind began to play tricks on him, remembering the last time he saw his new wife, already 3 months pregnant with their first child. He prayed they weren’t inside.
As the flames crept around the building, with the 47th Street Department still fighting the unabashed flames with all they had, Roland’s worry began to escalate. Why had he not heard from her? Was she in there? He found himself hoping more and more that she’d agreed to take another double shift, the type he’d been against since they were married. He kept waiting for a sign she was okay, but in the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t come. The racking sobs began to build up in his body, yet he refused to let himself let go until he knew the truth. “Alright boys, let’s get in there and kill this thing!” The fire marshal, Dan Casey, was coming close to retirement, a day he never wanted to see come. The rest of the force knew him to be a kind-hearted man most of the time, but if there were fires to fight, he was all business. Being the rookie on the force, Roland was sent in to look for survivors with the first team, he needed the experience. He hadn’t told anyone this was his home, not even when he mounted the ladder and advanced on the flames.
With tears streaming down his face inside his mask, Roland made it up the ladder into a neighboring window. Axe strapped to his back, he stepped through the frame of shattered glass and began the trek to his burning apartment. But the damage to the structure was too great, he noticed, and the building was going to come down. And it was going to come down soon. He raced through the door into the hallway, making his way deeper into the building, in an attempt to make it to his front door. The rest of the rescue team watched him go, and protested his decision. “You’re going to die rookie!” Roland’s best friend and co-worker, Declan, yelled at the top of his lungs. Roland didn’t care, he just kept moving.
Suddenly the floor beneath him shifted, buckled. The fire had ravaged the building, and it had taken its toll on the frame. Parts of the hallway floor disappeared as Roland moved, and crash after crash pummeled his ears as beams fell around him. He knew it was over; he had no hope of saving his wife and baby. A sudden explosion of sparks and wood chips directed his attention behind him in the hallway, as he turned and looked, he saw Declan grasping desperately for a handhold. He had fallen through the floor when a beam below him succumbed to the fire. “Hang on!” Roland yelled as he attempted to save his friend, but as he moved closer, he heard the sickening crack of wood splintering, and both he and Declan looked up. A beam, almost 10 feet long and looking like it weighted at least 200 pounds was breaking loose from the frame. Declan screamed, Roland tried to dive out of the way. The beam fell with an ear-splitting crack, hitting Roland across the calves as he dove, but decimating the floor where Declan was trying to find something to hold on to. Roland went headfirst out the window, landing 15 feet below on the grass, dazing him. Just before he passed out, he heard a muffled explosion as the falling beam hit the furnace. He lost consciousness just before a group of hands pulled him clear of the falling debris.
Chapter 2:
Waking with a start, Roland realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. “A bad dream, just a bad dream,” he said, rubbing his eyes. As the sleepy feeling crept from his mind, Roland began his day. As he swung his tired, lazy legs off the bed, he knew that there was work to be done. He quietly reached for the glass of water that sat beside his bed, careful not to wake the woman next to him. “You get to keep sleeping, babe,” he muttered as his feet groped blindly in the dark for his slippers. Still half-asleep, Roland’s feet shuffled him into the kitchen of the tiny, two-bedroom apartment that he called home. Nestled high above the city, the apartment at 26 Holland Avenue was Roland’s oasis from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Every day, as he traipsed through the door, he saw relief in the form of his leather easy chair and big screen TV, and at 22, already felt like an old man at the end of the day. His wife, Laura, who was still nestled between the sheets in the bedroom, kept trying to get him out of the house, telling him about movies, plays and concerts, perfect venues for an about the town couple. He politely declined most nights, but, he recalled, they did go out quite a bit. After he hit the ON switch of the coffee pot, Roland headed to the shower.
After showering, shaving and getting ready for the day, Roland went back to the kitchen. As he walked through the living room, he was sure he could smell the pot of fresh coffee, seeming to call his name. The addiction to caffeine had begun during training for the fire department, just over a year ago, and Roland found he couldn’t even start his day without half a pot of hot black coffee finished before 7a.m. After pouring his first cup, and collecting the newspaper from the front door, Roland walked back through the living room, and stopped dead when he thought he smelled gas. “That’s not possible,” he concluded, “we don’t have a gas fireplace, or stove in here. I must be losing my mind.” He looked briefly for the source of the odor, but no success was made. It seemed to be fading anyway. Walking back into the kitchen, Roland threw the paper on the table for Laura, filled a travel mug with as much coffee as it could hold, and headed out the door.
The 47th Street Fire Department was already busy when Roland walked in. His eyes swept the garage and focused on a man, 2 years his senior, both in age and experience. Already looking older than he was, with 2 silver hoops in his ears and a small goatee, Declan noticed Roland walking over, and gave a smile. “Still bringing coffee from home? We’ve got 3 pots here already!” Declan exclaimed, trying to gain a reaction from the rest of the boys. “I could, but I’d prefer drinking coffee, not shit,” Roland remarked right back, “especially on the days when it’s you making the coffee.” This caused the guys Declan was standing with to chuckle, and Declan’s face went bright red. “Smartass rookie,” he said under his breath, just loud enough for Roland to hear. Then he brought back his big-toothed grin and clapped the newest member on the team on the back. “Come on, we got a lot of work to do.” Declan always tried to be the big man, Roland thought, the body of a bouncer at a club, but the heart of a trusting child. It didn’t matter what kind of mess you got yourself into, Declan would always help out.
The day went by rather uneventfully, no car accidents to assist at, no fires, not even a cat that needed rescuing from a tree. Even though he’d only been working the 47th for a couple weeks, Roland was starting to get bored. He’d gotten into firefighting because he hadn’t found what he needed in university, so he left after his first year, went to a community college and got a diploma as a certified paramedic. Following college was training as a firefighter, following training and certification, his assignment. He’d requested to be placed in a more high activity department, and since he’d finished at the top of the class, it was approved. The 47th was supposed to be bustling with calls, some action, some excitement, some danger. But since he started, Roland could count how many calls he’d been out on with his fingers.
But that all changed. Around 3:30, with the majority of the guys bored and starting to get restless, a call came in, one of the worst fires most of these men had ever seen. Everybody grabbed their gear and headed for the trucks, and as they ran, Roland said to Declan, “Where is this fire?” “It’s on the edge of downtown; the street name is a country or something, fuck, I can’t remember! Let’s GO rookie!” They both piled into the truck, but a seed of worry had planted itself in Roland’s mind. Worry turned to fear, and fear to terror as the trucks followed the same route that he took everyday to and from work. Soon the acrid smell of burning wood, paint and plastic began to hang heavy in the air. They could all smell it, and that meant one thing, they were close. The truck pulled up to the curb, and the army of red and yellow jacketed firefighters poured out. Roland put on his helmet, stepped off the truck, and felt his heart skip a beat. Breathless, he could only mutter, “Oh God.”
Chapter 3:
Laura woke up and was relieved to find that Roland had already left for work. Every morning when she woke up next to him, she hated herself a little more. At 24, Laura was a junior assistant to an investment banker, in a firm downtown. Her sharp eyes seemed glazed over by a lack of sleep, and so she hit the snooze button and rolled back over. Her long, curled brown hair seemed to blanket her head, sheltering her from the light coming through the open window. “Roland you jerk,” she said with a tired smile on her face, “always have to open the blinds when you leave.”
The ringer on the phone was turned up again, and Laura cursed Roland again; she just had the volume right and he goes and changes it. “Hello?” Laura asked tentatively, trying not to sound tired. Brenda, the secretary from the office, was calling to say that her boss, Steve, wouldn’t be coming in, and so she wasn’t needed. Laura was surprised, and reveled in the idea of another few hours of sleep. She thanked Brenda for the message, hung up, turned the volume of the ringer down and dove back into bed. She had just begun to drift off again, when the phone rang a second time.
“Like how I gave you the day off?” Steve, her boss’ voice sounded harsh and raspy over the phone, “I was hoping we could work from home”. Laura immediately knew why. Steve, a tall, lanky young man, was one of the youngest partners in the firm, and had done so by re-working the entire computer system of the office, allowing for the layoffs of over half the file clerks that were in employment. Steve was relentless in his pursuit of what he wanted, but always seemed to deal with every situation with his shrewd sense of humour. Laura had been the latest on his list of triumphs since she started at the firm and deep down inside, she knew why she got the job in the first place. Why did she let herself get caught up in a meaningless sexual relationship? Since just after their first anniversary, Laura had been cheating on her husband. Steve didn’t care that she was married; it just helped to boost his ego every time he convinced her to succumb to his wishes. She didn’t know why she did it, she didn’t enjoy it. But she was worried if she broke it off, her job might suffer.
“What do you want Steve?” Her voice no longer sounded tired, but exasperated, and a little scared. Steve loved it. “What do I want? You make it sound like a chore. I know you like it, or you’d stop coming back for more.” In Laura’s mind, nothing could be farther from the truth. She wanted to tell him off right there over the phone, but she thought, I could lose my job, and if I piss Steve off enough, my husband. She wouldn’t put it past her boss to call Roland and tell him everything, and she couldn’t risk it. Steve whispered into the phone, “I know you’re alone, I saw your husbands schedule on your desk yesterday. I’m coming over at noon, wear something sexy.” And, with that, the line went dead.
Laura stared at the phone, shocked. “That conniving son of a bitch!” she exclaimed, turning off the portable phone and throwing it on the bed. Steve knew she was pregnant, and secretly amused himself with the fact that the child might be his, but didn’t want to say anything. He wanted to hear how shocked Roland would be if the baby wasn’t his. Laura got out of bed, and made her way to the shower. After cleaning up, she went into the kitchen, and saw the half pot of coffee and newspaper waiting for her. She poured a cup, and pored through the news, enjoying one luxury of not having to go to work. She got dressed, and made the bed and waited for the doorbell to ring.
At 12:30, Steve showed up at the door, an arrogant grin on his face knowing he was late. “Get inside,” Laura said, grabbing him by the jacket. The sex was uninspired, and Laura soon bored of it, but began to admire Steve’s tattoos, especially the Latin phrase on his back, since it was really all she could see. As bored as Laura was, she didn’t notice the small fire building in the room, the result of a cigarette that had been knocked over. Roland hated them and she’s promised herself she was going to quit. She’d gotten down to only smoking after she’d been drinking and after sex. Steve was oblivious to the fact as well, and by the time the fire started to crackle and pop, it had filled the room, and Steve and Laura were trapped on the bed.
Frantically, Laura reached for the phone on the bedside table and called 911. “There’s a fire and I’m trapped!” She screamed into the receiver. “I don’t want to die, I’m preg-,” the flames reached the telephone cords and melted right through them, but the operator had gotten enough to relay the emergency to the fire department, who took off for the call. Little did they know, by the time the firefighters had even suited up, Laura and Steve were dead.
Chapter 4:
The smoke seared Roland’s eyes as he stared at the fire. Hot tears began to well up in his eyes, and Roland could do nothing but put his helmet on to hide the coming tears from the rest of the guys. 26 Holland Avenue was ablaze. His mind began to swim with the realization that it was exactly the same as his dream. The same 2 windows, the same creaks and groans as the structure of the building began to give. The only thing different was that Roland knew what would happen. He kept replaying what he saw the night before over and over. Roland could feel the familiar pangs of panic starting to course through him, but he managed to compose himself and step back to the truck. He yelled to the chief, who came running over. “What is it?” he bellowed, trying to yell over the sound of the fire. Roland let the panic he felt show in his eyes as he yelled “This is my house! I need your phone to call my wife’s office. I have to make sure she isn’t in there!” Jerry, a stout, silver haired fire chief with a bushy mustache and arms the size of tree trunks, saw Roland’s worry and pulled out his phone. Trying to keep the situation light he yelled, “This had better be a local call!”
Roland grabbed the phone and dialed Laura’s office number. Brenda answered, and Roland’s fears were quickly confirmed. “She didn’t go to work, she’s inside!” Roland threw the phone back to Jerry, put on his helmet and ran towards the building. Jerry yelled after him, as did Dan Casey, but by then, Roland was halfway up the ladder. He climbed through the window, readied his axe and prepared to rush headlong into the flames when a strong pair of hands grabbed him. Declan spun Roland around and told him that they had to get out. Roland pushed away and started towards his apartment, when he remembered the dream. He yelled at Declan to get out, but Declan refused. And then with the sickening sound of splitting wood, and Declan fell through a burned out hole in the floor. “Oh God, it’s really happening,” Roland said as he tried to pull Declan out of the floor. He felt more and more debris hitting his back and knew there was nothing he could do. Declan’s eyes were wide with terror but he screamed at Roland to get out, and as Roland rushed for the window, Declan screamed one last time.
Chapter 5:
Roland opened his eyes and stood up, expecting to be hurting from his fall out the second story window but felt no discomfort at all. He looked around but found that no one was even looking his way. The rest of the crew was busy either fighting the fire or crowded around one of the ambulances. “They must have gotten Declan” Roland said and started towards the ambulance. As he walked, the confusion he felt for not being given any medical attention gave him a start, but he figured Declan was the priority and pushed it from his mind. He got to the ambulance, but found that he could not even break through the group of firefighters and paramedics that were circling Declan. His eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered to witness the building burn. All but one was staring at the crew putting out the blaze.
The other set of eyes were fixed entirely on Roland. Roland stared back at the young Asian man, maybe 21, with highlighted black hair and sharp eyes. Everywhere Roland moved, the eyes followed, until the man yelled “Hey! You! A little confused? How about you look at who is lying on the gurney!” With that he turned and pushed his way out of the crowd. Roland tried to yell back but found he had no voice, which he chalked up to the fall. Roland looked back at the ambulance and noticed a gap in the crowd. He pushed his way through, looked down, and found his voice.
Chapter 6:
“Jesus Christ! This can’t be real!” Roland yelled. He rubbed his eyes, and stood in front of the gurney in plain shock. Staring back with wide frightened eyes and a large piece of steel lodged in his belly, Roland saw himself. “But, I’m Roland. That’s not me, it’s not! It can’t be!” “It can be, and it is.” Roland turned to see who was talking to him. The young man that had seen him in the crowd was directly behind him, looking at him with an almost sick fascination. “Look, just shut up and listen to me, I’ll try to make this as easy as I can. You are dead. You’re not coming back to life, and you’re not going to heaven. You’re lost, just like everyone else that’s ever died. You were a mediocre person, never purely good, and never malevolently evil, and therefore, you are still here.” Upon saying this, the Asian guys face seemed to sink, and he continued. “My name is Bill, and I was killed a month ago trying to catch a bus. You’d think when you died you’d be met by angels and carried off, but no. I’m just a university student that got hit by a car trying to make it to school.” He grinned, and patted the seat beside him on the bench he had sat down on while he talked.
“So, I’m dead. That’s it?” Roland was suspicious, thinking Bill was toying with his mind, or that he was concussed and imagining all this. Bill looked up, “Yep. You’re dead. Looks like you took a piece of the furnace when it exploded. That sucks too.” He got up, and looked around. “Well, let’s get going, I’m kind of excited that I get to show someone what we can do now.” “No, wait. I want to know if my wife is okay. I mean, if she’s dead, she’ll be like you and me now, right?” Bill looked surprised, and said, “The hot brunette? Nah man, she and the dude she was with left with another guy about 20 minutes after the fire broke out.”
A wave of confusion swept over Roland. Laura left with another guy? Was it Declan? He turned to Bill. “What about my friend, the other one that went inside?” Bill didn’t say a word; he was too busy watching a redhead walk around the crowd. “Hey, I remember that chick! She’s on the news, Channel 4.” Bill seemed proud of himself for remembering who she was, and Roland asked “can I ask you a question?” Bill looked up, a flash of excitement in his eyes. “For sure bro, go ahead.” “What exactly can I do now?”
Bill was glad Roland wasn’t just another depressing apparition. He hated calling himself a ghost, ghosts were to be feared. He preferred to be an apparition, an evanescent figure, the last remaining part of his former conscious self. He remembered life, and all he’d learned as a student, but even though he had died, he still longed to learn. He remembered hearing in Sunday school, back when he went, that when a person died, all the questions they could have are answered. He learned the hard way that they aren’t.
The excitement faded from his eyes as Bill thought of his past, and a pair of sad eyes met Roland’s. “Well, you can’t change the fact that you’re dead. They won’t be bringing you back to life, you’re just dead; But enough of the sad shit. Cool stuff you can do… You can walk through walls, hitch rides in anything, even power lines. That’s the best part of being dead, travel at the speed of light if you want to. As an apparition, we are energy, no more restrictions due to flesh and bone.” Bill seemed to glow as he got more and more excited. “Before I died, I was an arts student, but I understood physics. And that ability for us to get around would blow peoples minds. I’ve only moved through power lines once though, I went home, to make sure my parents were okay. I still haven’t figured out how to directly manipulate things in the physical world yet, but we can manipulate anything electronic, if we have enough energy. The guy that met me after my accident explained that to me. If you can get excited, or happy then you can gather enough energy to do what you want, never too much, but enough to turn on a radio, or change a TV channel, or put a word or 2 on a computer screen. That’s what I did. My dad was writing down all of his memories of me on his computer, and I was able to send 4 words, 2 at a time. He’d just started a new page, and before he started typing I put ‘I’m here’ and ‘I’m okay’.” Bill’s glow had faded quite low, but not as low as Roland’s still grey self.
Chapter 7:
As Bill led Roland away from the scene of the fire, he muttered to himself, “Where the hell is Faith? I stop to look at the fire, see if I can help, and she disappears.” He continued to mumble under his breath as they moved, until he heard a familiar, “Bill! Slow down! Geez, the guy’s been dead for less than an hour and you’re already getting him moving.”
Roland turned at the sound of the voice and found himself face to face with a woman who could only be, in his mind, an angel. Long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face with stunning features, and blue eyes that shone like polar diamonds, a cutting blue that seemed to look into, and then through Roland. Roland’s mouth opened as he stared at the woman, and he realized that she was glowing like Bill was earlier, only brighter than he did. “Are you ok? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Faith’s melodious voice snapped Roland out of the self-induced daze he’d put himself in. “I’m sorry. I just…” Roland’s voice trailed off with a hush as Bill began glowing again, and Roland knew he was getting excited. “Hey Roland, this is Faith, the one that taught me after my unfortunate mishap. She really knows her shit.” Faith laughed and said, “Unfortunate incident, more like unlucky kid on a bike meeting a city bus. Oh, before I forget, we’ve got another one from that little fiasco at the apartment building.”
Roland looked past Faith and saw a familiar face grinning ear to ear. The burly firefighter with the 2 hoop earrings and goatee was a sight he’d never been happier to see. “Declan! Oh man, I’m so glad you’re here! You… you can see me, right?” Roland asked timidly, almost expecting Declan to walk away. “Of course I can see you. What am I, blind? No, I’m dead, not some haggard old man. Tell you something though man, I didn’t expect to see you on this side. I told you to get out.” Declan’s eyes became as grey as cold steel, and his usually good natured expression became fierce. “You have a wife, what were you thinking! I went in there because I’m risk free! I don’t have a missus waiting for me at home!” With that, Roland’s anger flared. “That fire was in my apartment! My wife was in there! So if you can’t see my concern, why I tried, then fuck you! And I’ve already heard that she’s dead too!” Bill and Faith stepped in, stopping both of them. Faith snapped, “You two are going to drain your energy doing that, and we can’t help you if that happens. You’ll be lost to us.” Her intense eyes seemed to ignite as she stared at the two firefighters. “Sit down, we need to explain some things to you, and it could take us awhile.”
“Ok. I know we’ve both told you the basics,” Faith spoke with a soothing calm in her voice, but the topic was nothing but calm. “Yes, you’re both dead. You were both killed in the same instant when the furnace exploded. Bill and I were there watching. I knew that Declan would be disoriented; he was in the basement in the fire, so I went in and led him out. Roland, you were thrown through a window when the shrapnel hit you. That explains that, now for the important stuff.” Faiths shoulders tensed and the familiar intensity settled back into her eyes. “As apparitions, we have nothing left of our physical selves. We retain memories and emotions because they are due to your old body’s bio-electric synapses. These fade the longer you are an apparition, with the exception of anger and love. We gain energy from a variety of sources; the main one is the sun. The ultraviolet rays pass through us and keep us charged, but we also gain energy from each other. Interaction between apparitions keeps our energy levels up, but negative energy, such as anger, diminishes it. That is why we stopped you from fighting. You may discuss it later when we aren’t worried about our own energy.”
Declan looked up at Faith, “How come we aren’t showing our injuries? I mean, I should be all scarred or burnt. I know we can’t see our reflections, but if I was all burnt, it would have killed Roland a second time to see such a beautiful face all messed up.” Roland was shocked at Declan’s perceptiveness, and saw that with the joke Declan had made, he’d taken on a glow. He looked down at his own chest, and realized that there was no shrapnel through his heart, and stared at Bill and Faith with a look of puzzled surprise. “The reason your injuries don’t show is because your apparition is constructed from your last conscious thought, your own self image of yourself before you were killed. There are some apparitions that had poor self-images, and you will see them as you travel the city, but that won’t be for awhile. There is still much to learn. Now, come with us, we’ll show you the best places to gain energy.”
Chapter 8
The group of 4 began traveling, and as they walked, Roland noticed that while no one looked at them, anyone walking a dog, or pushing a stroller had problems with their passengers and canine companions. Faith saw the look in Declan’s eyes and said, “Babies and animals can see us. Animals can see us because they have an innate sense about that sort of thing. And babies can see us because their minds haven’t developed the capacity for ignorance and fear yet. Their minds are innocent. The mind learns to fear things, and babies haven’t been taught to be afraid of anything.” The walked until they reached a bakery, Bill turned to the other 3. “Faith, you know this, but you 2, listen up. The best place to gain energy is from a heat source. Bakeries, furnaces, saunas; these are the best places to go to charge back up. The only problem is, a lot of them are usually full of apparitions, and a lot of them are territorial. This bakery is Faith’s.” Bill smiled at Faith, and went inside the bakery.
After being inside for about 15 minutes, Roland noticed the glow emanating from all 4. He held his hand up and looked at it, seeing the grey he’d seen before replaced with a warm yellow glow. He glanced over at the others, and saw Bill trying something with his hands, and Declan and Faith deep in conversation in the corner. He tried to listen in, but soon gave up and went to talk to Bill. “What are you trying to do Bill?” Without looking up, Bill said, “I should be able to exert enough energy to exert a physical force, but I haven’t been able to master it yet. I’ve been trying for 2 weeks. It’s frustrating, but if I let myself get mad, all the energy I need to do it will be lost.” Roland was confused. “But, didn’t you punch some keys on your dad’s keyboard?” “No, electronics are different. We are energy, pure and simple. Manipulating an electronic signal is the easiest thing we can do. Faith or I will show you how to do it once we’re all charged. Your friend is really glowing over there; he’s excited; really excited.”
Declan was in fact, very excited. For the last hour he’d been talking to Faith about what she remembered about her life before she’d died. Faith kept looking at Declan, trying to read the type of person he used to be. He was a big man, well built with a little extra, she suspected from too many after work beers and take out dinners alone. Even though she’d been dead for 2 years, she still remembered what it was like for anyone living alone. She’d had roommates; she knew that, although said she couldn’t remember their names. Declan looked 26, but something gave away his real age. He had a boyish innocence in his face, in his eyes, and the way he talked to her. Roland had been wrong about him, for Declan was only a year older than the rookie. At 23, He’d been the youngest firefighter to enter service at the 47th street station. The goatee and earrings did a little to mask his age, but it was his eyes that did it. Declan had brown eyes that Faith thought she might see in a puppy dog, wide and trusting. That could get him hurt, she thought, but looking at him, she could feel her own energy increase.
Hearing Declan talk about his life, a troubled look briefly passed over Faiths face. Declan didn’t catch it, but noticed that her glow had faded a little bit and he let it pass. Faith on the other hand, didn’t let it pass. She’d lied to them. She’d been dead for what had seemed like forever in her eyes, and hadn’t forgotten a thing. She remembered watching her roommates cry when they heard the news, how her parents had broken down when she was buried. But what she remembered everyday since then was watching them all move on afterwards. The girls got a new roommate; her parents moved to a smaller house and boxed up all her stuff. It had taken Faith a long time to begin building positive energy, in any form. As Declan talked about how he never had much luck with women, how he never thought he was good enough for any girl, she could see where he was coming from; but she couldn’t see why he’d have an issue with himself. While not what her and her girlfriends would talk about if he walked by, there was something in him that she liked. It always came back to his eyes, and the way he carried himself, like he wasn’t hiding anything. He was truly genuine, and that spoke volumes about him to her.
Chapter 9
Since she’d died in her sleep, Faith didn’t have the trauma of being killed suddenly like the other 3. She’d just woken up one morning and left her body behind. It was confusing at first, and she thought she was dreaming, until her roommate, and best friend Sarah had come in to tell her she was late for class. But in a way, it was harder on her; there was no real, discernable purpose for her to be dead. No fire or bus had killed her. She’d simply woken up dead.
Chapter 1
Roland wanted to do nothing but watch as the fire tore through all that he could call his. Windows shattered, and burning debris fell everywhere, and he kept thinking “I hope she’s not there. I hope she wasn’t home.” But even as he spoke the words to himself, he could feel his mind looking two stories up, and staring at the 2 windows on the far right of the building, the 2 windows of his apartment that could be seen from the front of the building. He could see the hungry flames licking against his windows, and knew with indifferent certainty that everything he called his own, well, not everything, he hoped, was gone.
It wasn’t until a young sergeant with the local police came up to him, that Roland began to accept the fear that had crept into his heart. After learning his name, the sergeant lowered his voice, and mumbled something into his radio. “Just one second sir,” he said, and stood by Roland, although it appeared that he wanted nothing more than to turn and run. Roland didn’t feel like talking anymore, he just wanted to go to bed. As he waited, his mind began to play tricks on him, remembering the last time he saw his new wife, already 3 months pregnant with their first child. He prayed they weren’t inside.
As the flames crept around the building, with the 47th Street Department still fighting the unabashed flames with all they had, Roland’s worry began to escalate. Why had he not heard from her? Was she in there? He found himself hoping more and more that she’d agreed to take another double shift, the type he’d been against since they were married. He kept waiting for a sign she was okay, but in the back of his mind, he knew it wouldn’t come. The racking sobs began to build up in his body, yet he refused to let himself let go until he knew the truth. “Alright boys, let’s get in there and kill this thing!” The fire marshal, Dan Casey, was coming close to retirement, a day he never wanted to see come. The rest of the force knew him to be a kind-hearted man most of the time, but if there were fires to fight, he was all business. Being the rookie on the force, Roland was sent in to look for survivors with the first team, he needed the experience. He hadn’t told anyone this was his home, not even when he mounted the ladder and advanced on the flames.
With tears streaming down his face inside his mask, Roland made it up the ladder into a neighboring window. Axe strapped to his back, he stepped through the frame of shattered glass and began the trek to his burning apartment. But the damage to the structure was too great, he noticed, and the building was going to come down. And it was going to come down soon. He raced through the door into the hallway, making his way deeper into the building, in an attempt to make it to his front door. The rest of the rescue team watched him go, and protested his decision. “You’re going to die rookie!” Roland’s best friend and co-worker, Declan, yelled at the top of his lungs. Roland didn’t care, he just kept moving.
Suddenly the floor beneath him shifted, buckled. The fire had ravaged the building, and it had taken its toll on the frame. Parts of the hallway floor disappeared as Roland moved, and crash after crash pummeled his ears as beams fell around him. He knew it was over; he had no hope of saving his wife and baby. A sudden explosion of sparks and wood chips directed his attention behind him in the hallway, as he turned and looked, he saw Declan grasping desperately for a handhold. He had fallen through the floor when a beam below him succumbed to the fire. “Hang on!” Roland yelled as he attempted to save his friend, but as he moved closer, he heard the sickening crack of wood splintering, and both he and Declan looked up. A beam, almost 10 feet long and looking like it weighted at least 200 pounds was breaking loose from the frame. Declan screamed, Roland tried to dive out of the way. The beam fell with an ear-splitting crack, hitting Roland across the calves as he dove, but decimating the floor where Declan was trying to find something to hold on to. Roland went headfirst out the window, landing 15 feet below on the grass, dazing him. Just before he passed out, he heard a muffled explosion as the falling beam hit the furnace. He lost consciousness just before a group of hands pulled him clear of the falling debris.
Chapter 2:
Waking with a start, Roland realized he wasn’t alone in the bed. “A bad dream, just a bad dream,” he said, rubbing his eyes. As the sleepy feeling crept from his mind, Roland began his day. As he swung his tired, lazy legs off the bed, he knew that there was work to be done. He quietly reached for the glass of water that sat beside his bed, careful not to wake the woman next to him. “You get to keep sleeping, babe,” he muttered as his feet groped blindly in the dark for his slippers. Still half-asleep, Roland’s feet shuffled him into the kitchen of the tiny, two-bedroom apartment that he called home. Nestled high above the city, the apartment at 26 Holland Avenue was Roland’s oasis from the hustle and bustle of everyday life. Every day, as he traipsed through the door, he saw relief in the form of his leather easy chair and big screen TV, and at 22, already felt like an old man at the end of the day. His wife, Laura, who was still nestled between the sheets in the bedroom, kept trying to get him out of the house, telling him about movies, plays and concerts, perfect venues for an about the town couple. He politely declined most nights, but, he recalled, they did go out quite a bit. After he hit the ON switch of the coffee pot, Roland headed to the shower.
After showering, shaving and getting ready for the day, Roland went back to the kitchen. As he walked through the living room, he was sure he could smell the pot of fresh coffee, seeming to call his name. The addiction to caffeine had begun during training for the fire department, just over a year ago, and Roland found he couldn’t even start his day without half a pot of hot black coffee finished before 7a.m. After pouring his first cup, and collecting the newspaper from the front door, Roland walked back through the living room, and stopped dead when he thought he smelled gas. “That’s not possible,” he concluded, “we don’t have a gas fireplace, or stove in here. I must be losing my mind.” He looked briefly for the source of the odor, but no success was made. It seemed to be fading anyway. Walking back into the kitchen, Roland threw the paper on the table for Laura, filled a travel mug with as much coffee as it could hold, and headed out the door.
The 47th Street Fire Department was already busy when Roland walked in. His eyes swept the garage and focused on a man, 2 years his senior, both in age and experience. Already looking older than he was, with 2 silver hoops in his ears and a small goatee, Declan noticed Roland walking over, and gave a smile. “Still bringing coffee from home? We’ve got 3 pots here already!” Declan exclaimed, trying to gain a reaction from the rest of the boys. “I could, but I’d prefer drinking coffee, not shit,” Roland remarked right back, “especially on the days when it’s you making the coffee.” This caused the guys Declan was standing with to chuckle, and Declan’s face went bright red. “Smartass rookie,” he said under his breath, just loud enough for Roland to hear. Then he brought back his big-toothed grin and clapped the newest member on the team on the back. “Come on, we got a lot of work to do.” Declan always tried to be the big man, Roland thought, the body of a bouncer at a club, but the heart of a trusting child. It didn’t matter what kind of mess you got yourself into, Declan would always help out.
The day went by rather uneventfully, no car accidents to assist at, no fires, not even a cat that needed rescuing from a tree. Even though he’d only been working the 47th for a couple weeks, Roland was starting to get bored. He’d gotten into firefighting because he hadn’t found what he needed in university, so he left after his first year, went to a community college and got a diploma as a certified paramedic. Following college was training as a firefighter, following training and certification, his assignment. He’d requested to be placed in a more high activity department, and since he’d finished at the top of the class, it was approved. The 47th was supposed to be bustling with calls, some action, some excitement, some danger. But since he started, Roland could count how many calls he’d been out on with his fingers.
But that all changed. Around 3:30, with the majority of the guys bored and starting to get restless, a call came in, one of the worst fires most of these men had ever seen. Everybody grabbed their gear and headed for the trucks, and as they ran, Roland said to Declan, “Where is this fire?” “It’s on the edge of downtown; the street name is a country or something, fuck, I can’t remember! Let’s GO rookie!” They both piled into the truck, but a seed of worry had planted itself in Roland’s mind. Worry turned to fear, and fear to terror as the trucks followed the same route that he took everyday to and from work. Soon the acrid smell of burning wood, paint and plastic began to hang heavy in the air. They could all smell it, and that meant one thing, they were close. The truck pulled up to the curb, and the army of red and yellow jacketed firefighters poured out. Roland put on his helmet, stepped off the truck, and felt his heart skip a beat. Breathless, he could only mutter, “Oh God.”
Chapter 3:
Laura woke up and was relieved to find that Roland had already left for work. Every morning when she woke up next to him, she hated herself a little more. At 24, Laura was a junior assistant to an investment banker, in a firm downtown. Her sharp eyes seemed glazed over by a lack of sleep, and so she hit the snooze button and rolled back over. Her long, curled brown hair seemed to blanket her head, sheltering her from the light coming through the open window. “Roland you jerk,” she said with a tired smile on her face, “always have to open the blinds when you leave.”
The ringer on the phone was turned up again, and Laura cursed Roland again; she just had the volume right and he goes and changes it. “Hello?” Laura asked tentatively, trying not to sound tired. Brenda, the secretary from the office, was calling to say that her boss, Steve, wouldn’t be coming in, and so she wasn’t needed. Laura was surprised, and reveled in the idea of another few hours of sleep. She thanked Brenda for the message, hung up, turned the volume of the ringer down and dove back into bed. She had just begun to drift off again, when the phone rang a second time.
“Like how I gave you the day off?” Steve, her boss’ voice sounded harsh and raspy over the phone, “I was hoping we could work from home”. Laura immediately knew why. Steve, a tall, lanky young man, was one of the youngest partners in the firm, and had done so by re-working the entire computer system of the office, allowing for the layoffs of over half the file clerks that were in employment. Steve was relentless in his pursuit of what he wanted, but always seemed to deal with every situation with his shrewd sense of humour. Laura had been the latest on his list of triumphs since she started at the firm and deep down inside, she knew why she got the job in the first place. Why did she let herself get caught up in a meaningless sexual relationship? Since just after their first anniversary, Laura had been cheating on her husband. Steve didn’t care that she was married; it just helped to boost his ego every time he convinced her to succumb to his wishes. She didn’t know why she did it, she didn’t enjoy it. But she was worried if she broke it off, her job might suffer.
“What do you want Steve?” Her voice no longer sounded tired, but exasperated, and a little scared. Steve loved it. “What do I want? You make it sound like a chore. I know you like it, or you’d stop coming back for more.” In Laura’s mind, nothing could be farther from the truth. She wanted to tell him off right there over the phone, but she thought, I could lose my job, and if I piss Steve off enough, my husband. She wouldn’t put it past her boss to call Roland and tell him everything, and she couldn’t risk it. Steve whispered into the phone, “I know you’re alone, I saw your husbands schedule on your desk yesterday. I’m coming over at noon, wear something sexy.” And, with that, the line went dead.
Laura stared at the phone, shocked. “That conniving son of a bitch!” she exclaimed, turning off the portable phone and throwing it on the bed. Steve knew she was pregnant, and secretly amused himself with the fact that the child might be his, but didn’t want to say anything. He wanted to hear how shocked Roland would be if the baby wasn’t his. Laura got out of bed, and made her way to the shower. After cleaning up, she went into the kitchen, and saw the half pot of coffee and newspaper waiting for her. She poured a cup, and pored through the news, enjoying one luxury of not having to go to work. She got dressed, and made the bed and waited for the doorbell to ring.
At 12:30, Steve showed up at the door, an arrogant grin on his face knowing he was late. “Get inside,” Laura said, grabbing him by the jacket. The sex was uninspired, and Laura soon bored of it, but began to admire Steve’s tattoos, especially the Latin phrase on his back, since it was really all she could see. As bored as Laura was, she didn’t notice the small fire building in the room, the result of a cigarette that had been knocked over. Roland hated them and she’s promised herself she was going to quit. She’d gotten down to only smoking after she’d been drinking and after sex. Steve was oblivious to the fact as well, and by the time the fire started to crackle and pop, it had filled the room, and Steve and Laura were trapped on the bed.
Frantically, Laura reached for the phone on the bedside table and called 911. “There’s a fire and I’m trapped!” She screamed into the receiver. “I don’t want to die, I’m preg-,” the flames reached the telephone cords and melted right through them, but the operator had gotten enough to relay the emergency to the fire department, who took off for the call. Little did they know, by the time the firefighters had even suited up, Laura and Steve were dead.
Chapter 4:
The smoke seared Roland’s eyes as he stared at the fire. Hot tears began to well up in his eyes, and Roland could do nothing but put his helmet on to hide the coming tears from the rest of the guys. 26 Holland Avenue was ablaze. His mind began to swim with the realization that it was exactly the same as his dream. The same 2 windows, the same creaks and groans as the structure of the building began to give. The only thing different was that Roland knew what would happen. He kept replaying what he saw the night before over and over. Roland could feel the familiar pangs of panic starting to course through him, but he managed to compose himself and step back to the truck. He yelled to the chief, who came running over. “What is it?” he bellowed, trying to yell over the sound of the fire. Roland let the panic he felt show in his eyes as he yelled “This is my house! I need your phone to call my wife’s office. I have to make sure she isn’t in there!” Jerry, a stout, silver haired fire chief with a bushy mustache and arms the size of tree trunks, saw Roland’s worry and pulled out his phone. Trying to keep the situation light he yelled, “This had better be a local call!”
Roland grabbed the phone and dialed Laura’s office number. Brenda answered, and Roland’s fears were quickly confirmed. “She didn’t go to work, she’s inside!” Roland threw the phone back to Jerry, put on his helmet and ran towards the building. Jerry yelled after him, as did Dan Casey, but by then, Roland was halfway up the ladder. He climbed through the window, readied his axe and prepared to rush headlong into the flames when a strong pair of hands grabbed him. Declan spun Roland around and told him that they had to get out. Roland pushed away and started towards his apartment, when he remembered the dream. He yelled at Declan to get out, but Declan refused. And then with the sickening sound of splitting wood, and Declan fell through a burned out hole in the floor. “Oh God, it’s really happening,” Roland said as he tried to pull Declan out of the floor. He felt more and more debris hitting his back and knew there was nothing he could do. Declan’s eyes were wide with terror but he screamed at Roland to get out, and as Roland rushed for the window, Declan screamed one last time.
Chapter 5:
Roland opened his eyes and stood up, expecting to be hurting from his fall out the second story window but felt no discomfort at all. He looked around but found that no one was even looking his way. The rest of the crew was busy either fighting the fire or crowded around one of the ambulances. “They must have gotten Declan” Roland said and started towards the ambulance. As he walked, the confusion he felt for not being given any medical attention gave him a start, but he figured Declan was the priority and pushed it from his mind. He got to the ambulance, but found that he could not even break through the group of firefighters and paramedics that were circling Declan. His eyes scanned the crowd that had gathered to witness the building burn. All but one was staring at the crew putting out the blaze.
The other set of eyes were fixed entirely on Roland. Roland stared back at the young Asian man, maybe 21, with highlighted black hair and sharp eyes. Everywhere Roland moved, the eyes followed, until the man yelled “Hey! You! A little confused? How about you look at who is lying on the gurney!” With that he turned and pushed his way out of the crowd. Roland tried to yell back but found he had no voice, which he chalked up to the fall. Roland looked back at the ambulance and noticed a gap in the crowd. He pushed his way through, looked down, and found his voice.
Chapter 6:
“Jesus Christ! This can’t be real!” Roland yelled. He rubbed his eyes, and stood in front of the gurney in plain shock. Staring back with wide frightened eyes and a large piece of steel lodged in his belly, Roland saw himself. “But, I’m Roland. That’s not me, it’s not! It can’t be!” “It can be, and it is.” Roland turned to see who was talking to him. The young man that had seen him in the crowd was directly behind him, looking at him with an almost sick fascination. “Look, just shut up and listen to me, I’ll try to make this as easy as I can. You are dead. You’re not coming back to life, and you’re not going to heaven. You’re lost, just like everyone else that’s ever died. You were a mediocre person, never purely good, and never malevolently evil, and therefore, you are still here.” Upon saying this, the Asian guys face seemed to sink, and he continued. “My name is Bill, and I was killed a month ago trying to catch a bus. You’d think when you died you’d be met by angels and carried off, but no. I’m just a university student that got hit by a car trying to make it to school.” He grinned, and patted the seat beside him on the bench he had sat down on while he talked.
“So, I’m dead. That’s it?” Roland was suspicious, thinking Bill was toying with his mind, or that he was concussed and imagining all this. Bill looked up, “Yep. You’re dead. Looks like you took a piece of the furnace when it exploded. That sucks too.” He got up, and looked around. “Well, let’s get going, I’m kind of excited that I get to show someone what we can do now.” “No, wait. I want to know if my wife is okay. I mean, if she’s dead, she’ll be like you and me now, right?” Bill looked surprised, and said, “The hot brunette? Nah man, she and the dude she was with left with another guy about 20 minutes after the fire broke out.”
A wave of confusion swept over Roland. Laura left with another guy? Was it Declan? He turned to Bill. “What about my friend, the other one that went inside?” Bill didn’t say a word; he was too busy watching a redhead walk around the crowd. “Hey, I remember that chick! She’s on the news, Channel 4.” Bill seemed proud of himself for remembering who she was, and Roland asked “can I ask you a question?” Bill looked up, a flash of excitement in his eyes. “For sure bro, go ahead.” “What exactly can I do now?”
Bill was glad Roland wasn’t just another depressing apparition. He hated calling himself a ghost, ghosts were to be feared. He preferred to be an apparition, an evanescent figure, the last remaining part of his former conscious self. He remembered life, and all he’d learned as a student, but even though he had died, he still longed to learn. He remembered hearing in Sunday school, back when he went, that when a person died, all the questions they could have are answered. He learned the hard way that they aren’t.
The excitement faded from his eyes as Bill thought of his past, and a pair of sad eyes met Roland’s. “Well, you can’t change the fact that you’re dead. They won’t be bringing you back to life, you’re just dead; But enough of the sad shit. Cool stuff you can do… You can walk through walls, hitch rides in anything, even power lines. That’s the best part of being dead, travel at the speed of light if you want to. As an apparition, we are energy, no more restrictions due to flesh and bone.” Bill seemed to glow as he got more and more excited. “Before I died, I was an arts student, but I understood physics. And that ability for us to get around would blow peoples minds. I’ve only moved through power lines once though, I went home, to make sure my parents were okay. I still haven’t figured out how to directly manipulate things in the physical world yet, but we can manipulate anything electronic, if we have enough energy. The guy that met me after my accident explained that to me. If you can get excited, or happy then you can gather enough energy to do what you want, never too much, but enough to turn on a radio, or change a TV channel, or put a word or 2 on a computer screen. That’s what I did. My dad was writing down all of his memories of me on his computer, and I was able to send 4 words, 2 at a time. He’d just started a new page, and before he started typing I put ‘I’m here’ and ‘I’m okay’.” Bill’s glow had faded quite low, but not as low as Roland’s still grey self.
Chapter 7:
As Bill led Roland away from the scene of the fire, he muttered to himself, “Where the hell is Faith? I stop to look at the fire, see if I can help, and she disappears.” He continued to mumble under his breath as they moved, until he heard a familiar, “Bill! Slow down! Geez, the guy’s been dead for less than an hour and you’re already getting him moving.”
Roland turned at the sound of the voice and found himself face to face with a woman who could only be, in his mind, an angel. Long blond hair cascaded over her shoulders, framing a face with stunning features, and blue eyes that shone like polar diamonds, a cutting blue that seemed to look into, and then through Roland. Roland’s mouth opened as he stared at the woman, and he realized that she was glowing like Bill was earlier, only brighter than he did. “Are you ok? It looks like you’ve seen a ghost,” Faith’s melodious voice snapped Roland out of the self-induced daze he’d put himself in. “I’m sorry. I just…” Roland’s voice trailed off with a hush as Bill began glowing again, and Roland knew he was getting excited. “Hey Roland, this is Faith, the one that taught me after my unfortunate mishap. She really knows her shit.” Faith laughed and said, “Unfortunate incident, more like unlucky kid on a bike meeting a city bus. Oh, before I forget, we’ve got another one from that little fiasco at the apartment building.”
Roland looked past Faith and saw a familiar face grinning ear to ear. The burly firefighter with the 2 hoop earrings and goatee was a sight he’d never been happier to see. “Declan! Oh man, I’m so glad you’re here! You… you can see me, right?” Roland asked timidly, almost expecting Declan to walk away. “Of course I can see you. What am I, blind? No, I’m dead, not some haggard old man. Tell you something though man, I didn’t expect to see you on this side. I told you to get out.” Declan’s eyes became as grey as cold steel, and his usually good natured expression became fierce. “You have a wife, what were you thinking! I went in there because I’m risk free! I don’t have a missus waiting for me at home!” With that, Roland’s anger flared. “That fire was in my apartment! My wife was in there! So if you can’t see my concern, why I tried, then fuck you! And I’ve already heard that she’s dead too!” Bill and Faith stepped in, stopping both of them. Faith snapped, “You two are going to drain your energy doing that, and we can’t help you if that happens. You’ll be lost to us.” Her intense eyes seemed to ignite as she stared at the two firefighters. “Sit down, we need to explain some things to you, and it could take us awhile.”
“Ok. I know we’ve both told you the basics,” Faith spoke with a soothing calm in her voice, but the topic was nothing but calm. “Yes, you’re both dead. You were both killed in the same instant when the furnace exploded. Bill and I were there watching. I knew that Declan would be disoriented; he was in the basement in the fire, so I went in and led him out. Roland, you were thrown through a window when the shrapnel hit you. That explains that, now for the important stuff.” Faiths shoulders tensed and the familiar intensity settled back into her eyes. “As apparitions, we have nothing left of our physical selves. We retain memories and emotions because they are due to your old body’s bio-electric synapses. These fade the longer you are an apparition, with the exception of anger and love. We gain energy from a variety of sources; the main one is the sun. The ultraviolet rays pass through us and keep us charged, but we also gain energy from each other. Interaction between apparitions keeps our energy levels up, but negative energy, such as anger, diminishes it. That is why we stopped you from fighting. You may discuss it later when we aren’t worried about our own energy.”
Declan looked up at Faith, “How come we aren’t showing our injuries? I mean, I should be all scarred or burnt. I know we can’t see our reflections, but if I was all burnt, it would have killed Roland a second time to see such a beautiful face all messed up.” Roland was shocked at Declan’s perceptiveness, and saw that with the joke Declan had made, he’d taken on a glow. He looked down at his own chest, and realized that there was no shrapnel through his heart, and stared at Bill and Faith with a look of puzzled surprise. “The reason your injuries don’t show is because your apparition is constructed from your last conscious thought, your own self image of yourself before you were killed. There are some apparitions that had poor self-images, and you will see them as you travel the city, but that won’t be for awhile. There is still much to learn. Now, come with us, we’ll show you the best places to gain energy.”
Chapter 8
The group of 4 began traveling, and as they walked, Roland noticed that while no one looked at them, anyone walking a dog, or pushing a stroller had problems with their passengers and canine companions. Faith saw the look in Declan’s eyes and said, “Babies and animals can see us. Animals can see us because they have an innate sense about that sort of thing. And babies can see us because their minds haven’t developed the capacity for ignorance and fear yet. Their minds are innocent. The mind learns to fear things, and babies haven’t been taught to be afraid of anything.” The walked until they reached a bakery, Bill turned to the other 3. “Faith, you know this, but you 2, listen up. The best place to gain energy is from a heat source. Bakeries, furnaces, saunas; these are the best places to go to charge back up. The only problem is, a lot of them are usually full of apparitions, and a lot of them are territorial. This bakery is Faith’s.” Bill smiled at Faith, and went inside the bakery.
After being inside for about 15 minutes, Roland noticed the glow emanating from all 4. He held his hand up and looked at it, seeing the grey he’d seen before replaced with a warm yellow glow. He glanced over at the others, and saw Bill trying something with his hands, and Declan and Faith deep in conversation in the corner. He tried to listen in, but soon gave up and went to talk to Bill. “What are you trying to do Bill?” Without looking up, Bill said, “I should be able to exert enough energy to exert a physical force, but I haven’t been able to master it yet. I’ve been trying for 2 weeks. It’s frustrating, but if I let myself get mad, all the energy I need to do it will be lost.” Roland was confused. “But, didn’t you punch some keys on your dad’s keyboard?” “No, electronics are different. We are energy, pure and simple. Manipulating an electronic signal is the easiest thing we can do. Faith or I will show you how to do it once we’re all charged. Your friend is really glowing over there; he’s excited; really excited.”
Declan was in fact, very excited. For the last hour he’d been talking to Faith about what she remembered about her life before she’d died. Faith kept looking at Declan, trying to read the type of person he used to be. He was a big man, well built with a little extra, she suspected from too many after work beers and take out dinners alone. Even though she’d been dead for 2 years, she still remembered what it was like for anyone living alone. She’d had roommates; she knew that, although said she couldn’t remember their names. Declan looked 26, but something gave away his real age. He had a boyish innocence in his face, in his eyes, and the way he talked to her. Roland had been wrong about him, for Declan was only a year older than the rookie. At 23, He’d been the youngest firefighter to enter service at the 47th street station. The goatee and earrings did a little to mask his age, but it was his eyes that did it. Declan had brown eyes that Faith thought she might see in a puppy dog, wide and trusting. That could get him hurt, she thought, but looking at him, she could feel her own energy increase.
Hearing Declan talk about his life, a troubled look briefly passed over Faiths face. Declan didn’t catch it, but noticed that her glow had faded a little bit and he let it pass. Faith on the other hand, didn’t let it pass. She’d lied to them. She’d been dead for what had seemed like forever in her eyes, and hadn’t forgotten a thing. She remembered watching her roommates cry when they heard the news, how her parents had broken down when she was buried. But what she remembered everyday since then was watching them all move on afterwards. The girls got a new roommate; her parents moved to a smaller house and boxed up all her stuff. It had taken Faith a long time to begin building positive energy, in any form. As Declan talked about how he never had much luck with women, how he never thought he was good enough for any girl, she could see where he was coming from; but she couldn’t see why he’d have an issue with himself. While not what her and her girlfriends would talk about if he walked by, there was something in him that she liked. It always came back to his eyes, and the way he carried himself, like he wasn’t hiding anything. He was truly genuine, and that spoke volumes about him to her.
Chapter 9
Since she’d died in her sleep, Faith didn’t have the trauma of being killed suddenly like the other 3. She’d just woken up one morning and left her body behind. It was confusing at first, and she thought she was dreaming, until her roommate, and best friend Sarah had come in to tell her she was late for class. But in a way, it was harder on her; there was no real, discernable purpose for her to be dead. No fire or bus had killed her. She’d simply woken up dead.