Afterlife_The Resurrection Chronicles

CHAPTER SEVENTY-THREE

Chaz:

Light fell like sparks from heaven; it grazed sun-bleached tombs, cast staccato shadows through rusted gates. It fell in radiant beams between the vaults built to look like tiny houses replete with iron fences. It exposed narrow paths that stretched through this village of the dead, twists and turns hidden from view, where murderers and muggers often lurked. But the faithful and the curious still came. Even in the daylight, votive candles burned a quiet testimonial. They glimmered between cloth bags filled with dried herbs, chicken bones and hoodoo money.
The fragrance of death hung in the air, a scent old and fragile, like papery flesh.
a€?Over here.a€?
Angelique walked ahead of me through the maze of stone monuments. Her long silvery-blonde hair caught in the breeze, seemed to float around her like she was a mermaid swimming through a coral reef. An ache centered in my chest when I watched her pause at a turn in the path. Despite all the confidence I had allowed myself up to this point, I knew now that this still might not work. Neville might refuse to make the trade. Maybe he never really cared about immortality. Maybe he was just doing what his boss told him to do, and now that we had his boss in custody, the parameters of this game were going to change.
Angelique glanced back at me, her face flushed, her cheeks a deep pink. The fever never really left. She should be back in the hospital.
I scanned the surrounding rooftops and wondered where Skellar was hiding. Was he watching us? Had he seen her stumble and almost fall a minute ago?
She was kneeling now, before a tomb littered with tokens.
a€?Here, this one,a€? she said, pulling on a necklace that hung around the neck of a stone angel.
I looked at it, nodded. It didna€?t look special. A simple glass vial strung on a leather cord. It didna€?t look like something that would turn the world upside down.
a€?This is where we were the other night,a€? I said, noting the landmarks. a€?Where you collapsed.a€?
a€?Yes. I was looking for something, but couldna€?t remember what. I guess I was on autopilot.a€? She tried to smile as she looked up at me. I could see the pain in her eyes. a€?Here, you take it.a€? She started to untangle the cord from the other necklaces woven around the statuea€?s neck.
a€?No.a€? I changed my mind. We were going to do this differently than we planned. a€?Leave it there. For now.a€? I helped her to her feet, then we headed back toward the cemetery entrance, shadows drifting as we passed ancient tombs that belonged to pirates, politicians and voodoo queens.
Somehow it seemed fitting that the secret to eternal life would be hidden here.
In the last City of the Dead.
Throughout the centuries, death couldna€?t be hidden in this city that pulsed with exotic blood. Because of the high water table, grave plots filled with water before we could bury our dead and coffins often floated away. Our early settlers had tried lining the caskets with stones or drilling them with holes, but it didna€?t matter.
In this delta land, the earth didna€?t want our dead.
And neither did we.
?

The wind picked up and turned cold, like it suddenly carried slivers of ice. Clouds were forming overhead and a shower of darkness descended as I called Neville. It was as if the heavens were rebelling against what I was about to do.
But they couldna€?t stop me.
I was supposed to go to his house, we were going to surround him with a perimeter of glittering VR mugs, like shining sentinels. But I realized that I couldna€?t trust this to a team of mugs. Angelique was right. Too many of them were on some hidden payroll. I wasna€?t even convinced that they were going to be able to keep that senator in jail long enough for us to pull this off.
High noon.
Isabellea€?s auction would end in twenty minutes.
a€?What does ya wants, Domingue?a€? Neville answered the call immediately, an unexpected slur in his words. Hea€?d probably just jammed another gen-spike in his arm. a€?I hasna€?t heards nothina€? bout ya makina€? no deals. Do ya thinks ya can just toss some jive-sweet words at me and Ia€?s gonna hands over yur little princess?a€?
a€?Your boss turned you in, Neville,a€? I said.
He laughed. a€?What the hell is ya talkina€? bout?a€?
a€?Your senator friend Greco, he gave us enough evidence to fry you and stop you from jumping. He even told me where youa€?re at right now. End of the line, bruh.a€?
a€?I doesna€?t really works for him,a€? he answered. I could almost hear the gears shifting inside his head, as if he were looking for a way to still come out on top.
a€?The deal is between you and me now.a€?
a€?It always was.a€?
a€?Then put me down as the winning bidder in Isabellea€?s auction,a€? I said. a€?Ia€?ll give you whatever you want.a€?
a€?I wants the serum.a€?
I grinned. Good answer. a€?Bring Isabelle and meet me at the City of the Dead. Be here in fifteen minutes or the deal is off. And dona€?t bring your gutter-punk friends, unless you want me to kill every last one of them.a€?
Neville laughed, a brutal and broken rattle, a scar of sound that reminded me of everything he had stolen from me. a€?Ya thinks yur tough, Domingue, but ita€?s likes I said before, yur just a puppy.a€?
Yeah, Ia€?m the puppy thata€?s going to end your life, Ia€?m going to see you twisted on the ground just like my father.
I hung up the Verse.
Soon, and very soon. All wicked things were going to come to an end.




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