Crossed Off: Your Funeral (Part XIII)

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The day after someone dies, their family goes through this death ritual called Familiar Mourning. Those close enough to the family, and close enough geographically speaking, sit around a dimly lit room and hold conversations. In the strictest of traditions, this part of the ceremony must be performed in a temple, or otherwise on holy ground, but modern times had changed things. They were often performed at home, and the majority of morgues had been expanded to include accommodating rooms. Family and friends gather around candles to express their gratitude towards the deceased, and to tell stories of their life in small groups. Quiet was the watchword during these ceremonies. Quiet and darkness.

Starla’s parents and Alec were in attendance at the morgue, of course. But Tristan and Kathleen jumped in the car and raced down so that they could be there too. Denton and his new team were having trouble getting back into the country since they were in the middle of some special research project in Texas. And Sendoa was just swamped with his new job with the man who could clone himself. Tons of people from school she never considered to be her friends showed up. Kind of tacky. And they kept acting like they had experienced some kind of profoundly influential moment with her. Much of what they said about their interactions were simply made up. Starla only listened to the beginnings of their conversations with each other. Knowing now that ghosts were real sent shivers throughout her body. How many of her relatives had she seen move on? What had she said about them while under the impression that these ceremonies were nothing but carryovers from a time of superstition and misinformation. At some point, she gravitated towards Alec who was standing alone in the corner, having no interest in participating. She tried to get his attention, but it was hopeless. She knew of only one person who could see ghosts—though there were probably more. Hopefully Don would carve out some time and scrounge up some money to come stateside for the funeral. She had no way of finding out, for her ability to jump to bodies had been removed from her during her murder.

On the following day, the funeral ceremony is performed, and a wake is often held. These are semi-private occasions, and are late enough after the passing to allow people from out of town to make travel arrangements. In cases of so-called natural deaths, this is when the body is laid to rest. But when the body must remain intact and unchanged in order to support an ongoing investigation, the funeral is skipped altogether, while the wake usually continues as planned. Having honored an obligation to the dark and quiet during Familiar Mourning, the wake is a time for loudness and joy. It’s less of a ritual, and more of a party. Though, the reason the ritual came to be was so that the deceased could move on to the afterlife with—what did the texts say—sunshine in their hearts and harmony in their souls. So the rowdy nature of these get-togethers was not completely unfounded.

Even though Starla’s body could not be displayed on a viewing altar since it was part of evidence, her family decided to go ahead with a funeral, and make an attempt to tone down the level of intensity of the wake. That was more Starla’s style, so she was appreciative of their decision. To her surprise, everyone showed up. Every single one of her confidants had booked tickets from far away lands. All of the people with special abilities were there as well. Those she had met in person like Magnus Shapiro and Therasia Jarvi crossed national borders. Those she had only met while in someone else’s body like Máire and Quang had dropped their busy lives for a few days. Even people she never met at all like Ling and Alonso flew in. René came in with a huge group of strangers, and she never really found out who they were, but she assumed them to have powers. People came with families of their own. Some were there with no obvious connection to anyone who knew Starla.

“I had no idea that she was so popular,” Starla’s mother remarked.

“Her life touched a lot of people, Mrs. Dawkins,” Alec replied. “That international pen pal program she founded grew larger than she thought it would.”

Her mother started tearing up. “I feel like I didn’t even know her.”

Alec wrapped his arm around her shoulders and joined her in a cry. “You knew everything about her.”

“Who did this to her? Who were those men? Did they have something to do with the pen pal network?”

He kissed the top of her head. “I don’t know who they were, but I know they had nothing to do with that.”

Spirit-walker, Spyridon Colonomos waited for Starla to finish eavesdropping before summoning her to a narrow hallway off of the chapel.

“I must say, it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”

“I can imagine. Which is why you can imagine that I always do my very best to stay away from ghosts.”

“Thank you for making an exception.”

“Can you tell me what happened? On the night of your death?”

“I could,” she said. “I won’t.”

“Why not?”

“The men who did this to me are no longer a problem. They’re already in custody. One is chained to a hospital bed, and another to a padded cell. And I’m over it. I’m moving on. There’s an...undeniable feeling of freedom once you die, Mr. Colonomos. You will experience this one day. All those things you thought you cared about stop serving a purpose. And the only things that ever truly mattered were the connection you made to others.”

“You have the opportunity to communicate with the living. Very few people are given this gift.”

She smiled and sort of ignored what he said. “Those connections can’t be broken. My soul can still feel their souls.” She shook her head politely. “I don’t need to speak with them. They can hear me.”

They left it at that.

On the last full day after a death, those closest to the dead are expected to step into their loved one’s shoes by participating in their favorite activity. This could be playing a favorite sport, or eating ice cream, or just reading a good book. For Starla, it was petting feral horses on Cumberland Island. Alec had spent the last couple of days on the phone with the people in charge, requesting an exception to their strict protocols. It took the entire time, but he was able to secure a reservation for a dozen people. Starla’s parents wondered why this would be her favorite thing seeing as that she hadn’t stepped one foot on the island in her entire life. Alec simply said that it was a dream of hers. The three of them enjoyed the tour with Starla’s eight worldwide confidants, who were for the first time breathing the same air as each other. They even got lucky and met a little baby. Starla was thrilled. Alec couldn’t really explain why those eight people were with them, but assured Starla’s parents that they really did qualify for closest loved ones.

At the end of the next day, Starla said goodbye to everyone, even though they could not hear her. The seconds were dropping. She was aware of exactly when her clock was going to run out. Don popped in real quick to see her off. They opened their mouths towards each other a few times, but ultimately exchanged no further words. Death was about as much of an end as anyone gets. There was nothing more to say. Exactly four days to the minute after her death, Starla’s new ghost body collapsed, and she died for a second time. She felt herself being blissfully pulled upwards, though there was no real sense of direction. Colors flew past her one by one until she reached gray, and then she stopped.

A woman she did not know, but who felt painfully familiar to her, greeted her on the other side. “Hello.” She stepped off to reveal a crowd of hundreds, possibly thousands, of people. “Welcome to...The Aggregate.” She looked pretty pleased with herself.

Starla stood for a few moments and watched as the crowd of familiar strangers attempted to greet her and bring her into the fold. But she just smiled at them. She had claimed to Don that she was done with life, but she was wrong. She wasn’t ready yet. Perhaps she never would be. “No, thanks.” She pointed her thumb behind her. “I think I’ll go back.”

“You can’t go back,” the woman argued.

“Yet, I feel like I can, and actually that I should.”

“It is true that you are one of the few of us who does not have to remain her, but there will be consequences.”

“Like what?”

“I do not have that information.”

Despite the warning, Starla left the afterlife and returned home; to her planet, that is...or plane of existence—or whatever it was. The woman had been right about the consequences, but it was more horrific than she could have imagined. All eight of her confidants, along with more than a hundred other innocent people, were killed in a plane crash. Normally, one would not attribute such a thing to a single act of resurrection, but this was different. They had all died on The Day of No Death, which should not have been possible. It really was her fault.

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Microstory 160: Ahmed Darzi

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In the beginning, there was death. Billions of years ago, in the second galaxy, a group of immortals learned just about all there was to know about what happened to a person after death. The mind loses coherence, the body decays, and the soul recedes into a lower dimension. But these people were not satisfied with that answer. They had friends, and didn’t want to lose them. Ever. They wanted immortality for all. And so they engineered an afterlife. They laid out a set of rules, a timeline, and real estate. And from that time on, no one ever really died. Except for a few exceptions. Upon death, a person receives a temporary body that lasts four days. Only the engineers know the reason for the rule, but it is this four day standard time limit that Ahmed Darzi exploits. Though he cannot travel via other dimensions like Jaklyn, Cleveland, or Fiona, he can see and hear inside of them. Rather, he can see two of these dimensions. One of these, commonly known as the indigo world, is where dead people remain “downstairs” for the next four days. It’s a sort of waiting room for the deceased, and it’s the reason post-death ceremonies last for a total of four days.

It is unclear when Ahmed witnessed his first ghost, for they often walk around like normal people, only sometimes exhibiting properties of their ghosthood, such as walking through walls, or failing to interact with the living. The first known case was with his uncle, who died when Ahmed was ten years old. He was frightened of seeing his uncle’s body on the viewing altar, but also standing against the wall. Fortunately, his uncle was sweet and gentle, and chose to help Ahmed come to terms with his newfound ability. Together, they made harmless jokes about their family members at the funeral. The next day, they raced camels, which was his uncle’s favorite activity. And only Ahmed was aware that ghosts really did have the pleasure of participating in the death rituals. After the four days, however, his uncle passed on. He quickly learned that this was an ancient unbreakable rule. He first met members of Bellevue thinking that they were normal ghosts, but they turned out to just be trapped in another dimension. He helped them figure out how to get home, and promised to join them at some time in the future, but felt that he had more work to do on his own. When he finally did arrive in Usonia, he became part of the mental health department with Francis, Baldwin, and Posie. His years of experience consoling the dead had prepared him for giving advice, but only at an uncertified level. After a few months of passing exemption exams, he entered licensure school, and graduated as a grief counselor. He continued to help the dead pass on with ease throughout the rest of his life, but spent the majority of his time helping the living.

Microstory 159: Neil Studwick

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Much like Laurence Cardinal, Neil Studwick had very little hope of controlling his ability. The difference between them was that Laurence’s ability was always on, but Neil only needed to worry about it at certain times. He was born in Huntsville, Ontario, Canada. When he was around seven or eight, his fathers started noticing that electronics went haywire around him. He couldn’t use the phone, or wear a watch, without draining them of their energy. They did some research in the library and determined that he was something called an electric person. There is little evidence that such people exist, but there are anecdotal accounts of people whose bioelectricity is powerful enough to disrupt electrical devices nearby; turning off street lamps as they walk underneath, or generating white noise on a television that’s set to an acceptable channel. Neil and his parents were able to get a handle on his ability, so that he could sort of hold in his electrical charge, and occasionally dissipate it safely when he was alone, and in the middle of nowhere. But then these releases of energy grew more powerful. He was either absorbing more energy throughout the day than he realized, or he was channeling energy in some other way. Violent and dangerous electrical arcs shot out of his body, and often started fires. Things were getting out of hand, and his condition was interfering with his college work in Toronto. While he was struggling with a decision to quit school, he was approached by Bellevue. They had him on a shortlist, and explained to him that he was not the only one, and that there was a reason no other so-called “electric person” ever reported being quite as powerful as him. They had in their ranks someone who could sew clothing that would take on the properties of those who wore it, meaning that Neil no longer needed to dissipate his charges at the end of the day. They insisted he finish his education, and so he remained out of Bellevue for the next year or so, until becoming more active. Fellow Canadian, Therasia Jarvi was finishing tertiary school around the same time, and so they became fast friends. Though Neil was energetic and anxious to contribute to the cause, he was tragically killed relatively early on.

Microstory 158: Ceres Concordia

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The fact that Ceres Concordia was born with a laughable name didn’t stop her from being an exquisite specimen. Though her outward appearance looked standard human, her body was radically different, technically allowing her to be classified as a mutant. She was born with two copies of each organ, with each one in a pair fully capable of sustaining her on its own. If one is damaged, the other will take over without missing a beat, while it’s flushed out and replaced. All of Ceres’ bones, muscles, skin, and other tissue are far superior to that of anyone else’s, making her physically stronger than anyone. Her body won’t heal as quickly as Dores Roach can heal others, but still faster than normal. She has multiple miniature brains throughout her body to spread around the danger. Though this has never been tested, it is assumed that severing her head from her body would not necessarily result in her death, and that what was left of her would be able to repair itself completely. Upon discovering her mutations following a kitchen knife wound that healed too quickly, Ceres’ doctors broke confidentiality and alerted the government. She was forced to flee the country with her father while her mother threw their pursuers off the trail. She remained on the move for years until Bellevue came out to the public, and fittingly joined the program around the same time as the other mutants. Because she spent much of her time on the run, she wasn’t given the opportunity to learn a skill, but she was in peak physical condition, and so she worked with Drummond Breckenridge in the physical fitness department.

Microstory 157: Cambrio Yates

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There are a few different kinds of memory. Semantic memory includes the things you know about the world around you, regardless of the means you took to learn them. This helps you recognize what a car is, or what planet we’re on, or that you’re a human. Episodic memory refers to everything that you have experienced; all the events in your life. Cases of amnesia are usually portrayed as affecting episodic memory (i.e. memories) but leave semantic memory alone, so that you’re not freaked out by the “first time” you see an airplane. Finally, procedural memory handles task that you are familiar with performing. It’s commonly known as muscle memory. You don’t actively concentrate on driving a vehicle. You’ve done it so much that it’s become second nature, and your body handles it on its own. Whereas Dathan Shapiro simply had a more robust memory system, Cambrio Yates had the ability to manipulate the functions of his own brain; primarily, but not limited to, memory. He was born with a sort of second brain that he likes to call the governor. It maintains control over the rest of his brain, and will revert his mind to its standard settings as needed. Though Cambrio is capable of having 100% recall of everything he’s ever experienced or learned, he can also delete information and suppress function at will. He’s been known to play around with his own brain, making himself blind, or temporarily hiding all semantic memory, so that everything he encounters feels completely unfamiliar. He’s watched movies for the first time multiple times, and even read books with his eyes closed by taking mental photographs of the pages in rapid succession, and then recalling the words gradually. His brother, Fraser could do the same things as him, but with other people. Cambrio encouraged him to experiment and practice his gift, but he was always very reluctant. Still, Fraser listened to his brother, and tried a few things out, and it got him killed. Cambrio blamed himself for his brother’s murder, and so he permanently deleted the traumatic memory from his brain, careful to leave himself with the knowledge that he should never attempt to remember.

Microstory 156: Ambrose Richardson

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Ambrose Richardson was born as a meta-anomaly, capable of manipulating the abilities of others. Though his primary ability could not present itself until being around another anomaly, he found himself early on being drawn to the others, and was innately aware of his condition. The more anomalies that congregated, the stronger his attraction to their location. But Ambrose was a shy and quiet person and always kept his distance, choosing only to observe. If he advanced close enough, they would feel his presence, and grow stronger for it, but they would not understand why. He watched the early discussions of Freeman, Gus, Diane, Cosmo, Peyton, and Kiel. He saw Don and Valary introduce themselves to Hosanna. And he witnessed one of the many meetings between Denton, Dathan, and Ling. He was even one of the six members of the infamous Botanical Gardens painting, and had accidentally fueled the incident. But there was one spot he feared. He felt the strongest pull towards towards the center of Usonia in Lebanon, Kansas. He knew only one anomaly was there, but the urge to go was almost inescapable, and it was for that reason that he exerted great effort in subverting it. Then the focal point of his attraction began to move. He tried to outrun it, but was unable to. It seemed to be drawn to him just as powerfully, and eventually caught up with him. He was relieved to discover the nature of The Keystone, but still reluctant to remain near her. She explained that his ability would be important to their kind one day, but that he was smart to stay away from those he encountered. He could enhance other people’s abilities, allow anomalies to share amongst each other, and even give certain normal humans their own abilities. And this made him unavoidably dangerous. Though he was integral in the early stages of Bellevue, they made the decision to keep him secret from everyone at first. He and the Keystone didn’t want to interfere with the recruits at that level until they had all learned to control them as they were.

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: April 18, 2042

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Harrison was assigned to remain with Mateo and Leona indefinitely, which he seemed to have no problem with. He gave the impression that he had grown as impatient with Ulinthra as they had just from five minutes of speaking with her. Last year, he interfaced with the aircraft, tinted the windows, and flew them to Iceland. They spent the rest of the day there as tourists. Harrison remained firmly in position inside of a secret cave for the entire year until they returned and woke from sleep.

“That was a nice vacation,” Mateo said.

“Harrison. Status report.”

“The whereabouts of your family is currently unknown. They have theoretically managed to evade detection for years now. Ulinthra has evidently suffered from a crisis of conscience, and is currently spinning off her subsidiaries, liquidating her assets, and donating vast amounts of money to charity. Your conversation seems to have made a huge impact on her perspective.”

“I didn’t expect her to make such radical moves,” Mateo said honestly. “She barely knows us. Why does she care what we think?”

“I believe you severely underestimate the level of respect you hold over the salmon community,” Harrison said.

“What? I haven’t done anything. Other salmon are running around pulling people out of burning buildings, shaping the future, fixing the past. I’m just...occasionally around.”

Harrison laughed. “People have been telling stories about you two. Remember that others have seen the future and come back. You may have done nothing yet...but you will. And most would argue that donating your kidney to someone you had only known for a couple of weeks was admirable.”

“This is true,” Leona said, knowing that Mateo had no way of responding without losing his humility.

“All right,” Mateo said, anxious to change the subject. “Let’s get to the nitty-gritty. Where’s Reaver? And what might he do next to try and kill us?”

“I doubt that he would be able to do anything from where he is.”

“Is he dead?” Leona asked, with a tad bit more enthusiasm than a well-adjusted person should show.

“No. But he has been incarcerated. He was found guilty on a number of counts after the cascade event years ago. He was left in house arrest, and his movements were severely restricted, but he violated the terms when he ran off to visit Daria.”

“That’s an interesting development.”

“He has been secretly placed in a private maximum security prison in—”

“Don’t say it.”

“Utah,” Harrison finished.

“He said it.”

“We have been monitoring him, but the majority of people are unaware that he is there. We suspect even that other inmates do not know he’s there. Our intel suggests that he has been in solitary confinement this entire time.”

Reaver was in prison, and presumably unable to communicate with his people, but there was no way of knowing whether he had formed relationships with the prison guards. He could be out in a few months, and be ready to cause more trouble for them tomorrow. This was their chance. They knew where he was, they had transportation, and they were as safe from his wrath as they were ever going to get. They had to act. “Take us to Utah.”

“Mateo, no!” Leona cried.

“Yes!”

“I’m not going to take you to the man who has made it his life’s mission to kill you and my boss,” Harrison responded, like it was the dumbest thing he had ever heard.

“We command you to take us.”

“I don’t have to do what you say. I’m an employee; not a slave. If my boss told me to do something I didn’t want to do, I would likely lose my job, but I wouldn’t be bound to it.”

“Robots don’t have to do what their told?”

“I’m not a robot. Where are you getting this? Movies? I’m an artificial intelligence. Big difference.”

“Then we ask you to take us to Utah, Leona said.

“I thought you didn’t want to go,” Mateo said to her.

“Yeah, remind me of that again, and see if you get your way.”

“I’m not going to take you to Utah. That’s final!” Harrison yelled.

Before landing in Utah, Harrison multitasked and coordinated with Reaver loyalists, prison officials, and shady underground people. They were able to get ten minutes alone with him, but they had to go in practically naked and undergo invasive cavity searches so that there was no way for them to sneak anything to him.

They sat at the table across from their enemy, Horace Reaver. He looked at Mateo with disgust, and Leona with bedroom eyes. “Stop looking at her like that.”

“Five more minutes, mom.”

“Stop it!” Leona shouted.

He immediately complied, as if her wish was his command.

Realizing that he was more prone to listening to her than to Mateo, Leona took control of the conversation. “What is your problem with us?”

“I have no problem with you,” he corrected. “My problem is with him.”

“Are you going to keep trying to kill us? We could keep avoiding you and wait you out until you die.” She pretended to look at a watch on her wrist. “It’ll take us a few weeks, but that will be hell for you. For you, it’s twice as long as it is for normal people, and they go crazy waiting for us to come back.”

“I’m not trying to kill you,” he corrected her again. “I’m trying to kill him.”

“I’ve been there. I was certainly in danger as well.”

“When?”

“He brought back a virus from the future that killed his mother, and could have killed me. That was your fault.”

“I have no clue what you’re talking about. Are you referring to the 2025 pathogen? That was Mateo?” He snorted and looked over to him. “You idiot.”

“You kidnapped my brother and his mother so that you could lure us to your plane and blow us up, or something.”

“Yeah, or something. You didn’t get on the plane, so how would you know what I was intending to do with you?”

“I could have been in the house when your sleeper cell, Mirage tried to kill him.”

“I programmed that machine to go after him when the rest of the house was empty. You were never in danger.”

“The Kessler cascade! You blew up a space probe so that we would be bombarded by debris, and killed while trying to return to Earth.”

Reaver looked offended. “Hey, that really was an accident, which is why I wasn’t immediately sent to prison. I was just trying to find you.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Keyword in space probe is probe,” he over enunciated. “I wasn’t trying hurt you. I just knew that you were somewhere in space, and I was trying to get to you. The cascade was an accident. I promise.”

“The volcano,” Mateo interjected.

“The what?”

“He means the forest fire,” Leona clarified.

“That legit was not me. Sure, I sent my people to pick you up after it, but I didn’t start the fire. Again, I’ve only ever wanted to hurt him. A fire would have been stupid, because I couldn’t guarantee your safety.”

“Why would you care about my safety? Wouldn’t I just be a casualty?”

Reaver paused for half a moment. “That’s all I’m saying. I’ll tell you more next year.” He pretended to look at a watch on his wrist. “Or the year after that, depending on how long it takes you to get me out of here.”

They howled with laughter. “We shall do no such thing.”

“I know you heard me the other day when I told Daria about the the choosing ones. I really do know how to stop them. I know who they are, and I know where they are. Get me out, and we’ll stop this together.”

“Why do some people call them the powers that be, but others the choosing ones?”

“Potato, tomato,” Reaver said simply.

“This is crap. Even if we wanted to, we don’t know how to break people out of prison. We’re a couple of kids from Kansas.”

“You’re exactly who I need. You came in the back way, but this building, and much of the world, is loaded with facial recognition scanners. Nearly the whole population has been scanned into a database or two, many against their will. Except for you. You’re dead. You’re the only ones who can sneak in here without alarms.”

“That’s dumb. They still have guards. They’ll see people they don’t know, and sound the alarms manually.”

“Not likely. It’s mostly automated. Very few humans work here. Look, here’s the deal. My team will provide you with whatever resources you need, and support you however they can. But you have to do this. You’ve already agreed to it. Yesterday. We’ve already had this conversation. You just don’t remember because Ulinthra and I are the only ones who go back and repeat our days. I’m just rehashing our conversation from before. Besides, it’s not like it would be your first prison break.”

“There’s no way for us to know whether you’re telling the truth about us having agreed to this in an alternate timeline,” Leona pointed out.

“There is. Dougnanimous Brintantalus.” He smiled like a creeper. “How would I know that?”

Leona was noticeably upset. “We have to do this, Mateo.”

“What? What the hell is Dougblagablah?”

“We have no choice.”

“I’m not going to break Horace Reaver out of prison. That’s final!” Mateo proclaimed.

At 11:00 PM local time, Mateo and Leona jumped back into the timestream, intending on meeting with Reaver’s loyalists to once more go over the plan to break him out of prison. They learned, however, that he had been moved to a new prison; one ominously called The Platform.

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Crossed Off: Death Knell (Part XII)

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Starla soon learned that her confidant, Cam’s student Quang Phan, had his own ability. He was the final piece of the puzzle; or rather, he was the last person with abilities she would have the pleasure of meeting. He was born with this innate understanding of how things were measured. He could instantly tell the distance between two objects, their weight, and just about anything else about them that could be quantified. He and Starla grew close over the months. Even though he was several years her junior, she felt a bond to him. He became her little baby brother. The Vietnamese education system was a little different than the Usonian one, but he was currently in the equivalent of primary school. Because of his ability, he was exceptionally good at math, but excelled in most of his classes. He struggled a bit with history, and so Cam was devoting extra time to tutor him. Starla would help as well, and even secretly taught the rest of the classes on rare occasions to give Cam’s mind a break.

She wasn’t spending every second of her time in Vietnam, however. She continued to visit her other confidants, but they were more difficult than Cam. While she basically pretended like nothing was wrong, the others pitied her and tried to give her encouragement. That was the last thing she wanted. Now that he lived closer, Sendoa visited her and Alec in person. The rest of her extended family came down from South Carolina to visit her as well. They had trouble understanding the extent of her condition, and treated her like she was in a coma; that is, they acted like they weren’t sure whether she could even hear them. And this was funny because, unlike regular people with Locked-in syndrome, sometimes she couldn’t, because she was thousands of miles away at the time. Little by little, however, the visits ended. People moved on with their lives and left Starla and her family alone.

Each time one of her friends or family members left, she crossed them off her mental list of greatest hits. This gave her the idea to do the same with her confidants abroad, and everyone who knew about her ability, including Ling, René, and Máire, even though she didn’t get the chance to know them very well. Karam managed to track down Don and his friends in Finland, so that was a nice touch. After she was done, she intended to never see them again. Though she had given up trying to kill herself, she still considered all of this to be the end. She would have to stop butting in on Cam’s life sooner or later. As they say, as fate would have it, she would be forced into this decision sooner.

She was taking in a play with Cam and her colleagues when she felt something she had not experienced before. It wasn’t so much of a feeling as it was a sound. This low-pitched hum rang in her ears, and coaxed her into returning to her body. Once she had, she discovered that she was not alone. Though she was on the floor, and turned toward the darkness under her bed, she could sense two people in the room with her. “Don’t make me do this,” one pleaded to the other.

“I’m sick of caring what other people want or need,” the one further away from her said back. Though Starla had never met anyone who drank alcohol, this man sounded about like the actors in the anti-drug videos she watched in health class.

“She’s just a girl. She doesn’t deserve this.”

“She can’t move. What does it matter?”

“She can’t move because of her ability,” the first man explained. “I can tell you this much, but I can’t tell you why.”

“Again, what do I care?”

“Because, you idiot, if you take her ability, it could happen to you.”

“Then you should have no problem with me giving it a shot.”

“I beg of you, don’t do this. And don’t make me be a part of it.”

“You’re the only way,” the leader said. “And I’m tired of your complaints, Ambrose. You want to do this,” he ordered.

“I want to do this,” Ambrose repeated in a monotone voice. But then he leaned down to Starla and whispered, “I’m sorry.” This was more than just threats by domination. This was mind control. The man in charge had an ability, and either this Ambrose fellow was a scientist, or he had one as well. For some reason, he could give other people abilities, but the conversation implied that this was not a good thing for the original user.

And then it was over. She was dead. She didn’t feel pain, and she didn’t go anywhere. For a second or two, all she could see was gray. Out of the corner of her eye was some kind of pristine white desk, but then she was back in her room, looking down at her now dead body. All around her was indigo, just like when she first met the spirit-walker, Don in Greece. Though she had seen this indigo world before, it instantly felt different. She was wearing a gray tunic. She felt better rested than she had in her entire life, but she also felt more vulnerable, like the slightest encounter with a mildly sharp object would pierce her skin and drain her of all her blood. She could also feel the seconds go by, to the same accuracy that Quang seemed to be able to.

Ambrose moved over to his master and did something with his hands to give him Starla’s ability. The master smiled under his own accomplishment. He gave the impression that he had experienced this before, and that it was amazingly refreshing. But then his face changed. He looked like he had just been drugged, and was having trouble keeping his eyelids open. Perhaps it was the alcohol. “What...?” he started to ask. “What did you do to me?”

“I did what you asked,” Ambrose said with no hint of irony. “Starla’s ability is now running through your blood. You should be able to jump to any body you wish within hours, maybe days.”

“No,” the master argued. “This is different. It’s different than last time.” His knees buckled and he had to catch himself on the corner of Starla’s dresser.

Ambrose made no attempt to help him. “I honestly don’t know what’s happening. But I warned you that her ability would be dangerous. We just don’t know enough about it. With time, I might have been able to find a way to do this without killing, or stop whatever it is that’s happening to you right now.”

“You’re going to help me,” the master barked at him as he slipped to the floor.

Ambrose reached down and tried to help the master up, but was struggling. He was now able to fight the compulsion. “Your control is wearing off. I don’t have to do what you say anymore.”

“This was your plan. You did this!” the master screamed.

“I’m telling you that I didn’t.”

And then the master used the last of his power to let out one final order. Before dropping his lids completely and drifting off to wherever he was going, he said to Ambrose, “you’re crazy if you think I’m going to believe that you didn’t do this on purpose!”

Unfortunately, Ambrose did believe such a thing, and so he went crazy. He yelled at the top of his lungs for a few seconds before slinking into the opposite corner of the room and rocking back and forth. Starla could do nothing but watch as her parents burst into the room, first looking at the sleeping master, and then over to the literally insane Ambrose, and then finally to their daughter’s body. Her father started to cry out from agonizing loss. Her mother dove down to Starla and frantically searched for a pulse, of course coming up empty.

It was done, and so Starla walked away, not wanting to see her family in this condition. She laughed to herself, but then remembered that she was a ghost, and no one could hear her, so she laughed as loud as she could. For it was then that she realized she had spent so much time crossing her friends off of that mental list, but she had now hit that final entry. She reached into her pocket and pulled out her imaginary list. With the other hand, she mimed the checkmark next to her own name. Then nothing happened. There was no bright light inviting her to heaven, nor a reaper man to pull her away. She could find no signs directing her to “cross over”. No. She just remained there. Alone. As a ghost. Her story was not quite finished.

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