Death Lies Between Us (An Angel Falls Book 1) Read online

  “You did do it on purpose! You’re evil and everyone is going to know it.”

  “You’re an ignorant liar,” Jules counters and then tries to change direction. “Besides, you have Eric now. He’s definitely an improvement over Jared.”

  Ashley narrows her eyes into snakelike slits, and then storms away.

  “Carrie, will you please call Jared? I don’t want to spend the night out here,” Jules says with a little desperation in her voice.

  Carrie nods yes and then follows her friends with her head hanging down.

  Before they are out of sight Jules digs in her bag while yelling, “Hey Ashley! Jared broke up with you because you’re a slut, not because of your pimples! And, you’re the witch, not me.”

  The ramrod up Ashley’s backside appears to grow an inch, but she doesn’t respond with more accusations. Meanwhile, Jules’ camera clicks as she takes a picture of their retreating backs.

  “Just in case I die out here,” she tells the wind.

  This is ridiculous! What kind of person would leave someone like this?

  Jules is stone faced and beginning to shiver. Goose bumps cover the pale skin of her arms. She starts to dig and pry at the boulder again. It’s becoming obvious her efforts are making the situation worse; the rock appears to be leaning toward her boot, increasing the pressure. She stops trying, and instead wraps her arms around herself, hands buried in her armpits. Jules doesn’t look panicked, or in serious pain… but I am.

  To hell with it and damned the consequences!

  I catch up with Ashley and her obedient duo and I stick my foot in front of hers, throwing her off balance. She lands hard, catching herself on her chin and hands. A nasty scrape wells up with blood. It’s juvenile, but I feel better, and a little disgusted that I can’t seem to stop myself.

  I leave Ashley whimpering on the ground and return to Jules. I wait until she’s looking the other way and then I will myself into visible form.

  Chapter Three: Inexplicable

  Her head turns in my direction and she simultaneously jerks and screams, “Holy mother! Where did you come from?” She clutches her chest as if she’s trying to stop her heart from popping out.

  I see her pulse racing under her left ear where her hair is pushed back and I like the frenzied beat of it. My own pulse quickens, although I know mine doesn’t show.

  She shakes herself and apologizes, “Sorry, I didn’t see you coming.”

  “Most people don’t.”

  She gives me a quizzical look.

  I’m not sure what propelled me to answer her that way. But then again, I’m not sure about anything I’m doing when it comes to her. Marcus, my mentor, would have something to say about this. I put that punishing image in the back of my mind and try to correct by saying, “No one’s ever called me Holy Mother before.”

  Light rose creeps over her pale cheeks making me want to embarrass her again.

  I try to give her a friendly smile, but it feels awkward. I look away from her warm face. “Having some difficulty?” I direct my gaze at her leg.

  “Actually, yes. I’m hopelessly stuck. Do you mind? You’ll probably get all wet, but I’ve tried and tried and I think I’m making it worse. Can you believe it? What a weird thing to happen. I’m sorry, I’m rambling. I’ll shut up now.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I tell her, but it’s too late. She clamps down her lips and watches me as I approach. She’s nervous, or excited, maybe both. Is it me? Does she know what I am? I don’t have time to dwell on it. I step into the water, making my physical appearance as believable as possible. It takes an enormous amount of effort to do it, but I want to act, and look, like a normal person.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nods.

  A thick sucking sound follows and she pulls her leg free. I let the rock fall back into place with a small splash.

  She hobbles away like a lame doe. “Ohhh, thank you!” she breathes out, and then eases down onto the grassy slope of the bank.

  Stepping out of the creek, I watch as she takes off her wet boot and peels off her sock.

  “Is your foot going to survive?”

  “I’m not sure. It’s too cold to feel anything.”

  “How about the rest of you?”

  At that, she turns her attention to me, her intense green eyes taking in my sober appearance. It makes me feel like one of her plant specimens.

  I revise my question. “Have you been out here long? Do you need to see a doctor?”

  “I’ve had better days but no, thank you, I’ll skip the doctor.” She glances at her watch, “I’ve been out here for maybe forty minutes.” She flexes her ankle and wiggles long toes with the speed of a sloth. Her face is scrunched up again.

  Even her discomfort is cute. “Does it hurt very badly?” I ask with deep concern. I kneel down in front of her.

  “It could be worse.”

  Her wincing expression doesn’t convince me. “Here, may I?”

  I wrap both of my hands around her foot and ankle before she can answer.

  She pulls back a little, saying, “No really, it’s okay.”

  She doesn’t struggle with real effort against my hands, so I don’t let go. I hold her gaze and she quits trying to pull free. “I can help it feel better. Trust me. Just one more second and… there.” I place her foot down on the grass and lean back. “Feel any better?”

  She covers her foot and ankle with her hands. “Yes, much. It’s not even cold anymore.”

  She looks at me with a clear question on her face. I turn away and watch the water meander downstream. “You should be more careful out here. What if I hadn’t shown up?”

  “I could’ve died from hypothermia.”

  “You don’t sound disturbed about it,” I point out.

  “You did show up though, and I didn’t die.” The next thing she says into her lap, but I hear it clear enough and I am surprised by the words. “It wasn’t totally unexpected.”

  “Did you just say you were expecting death?”

  “Does that sound crazy? It’s just — I had a feeling something really horrible was going to happen today.”

  “Do you get that feeling often?” I ask. Maybe behind those delicate green eyes is someone who is missing a few marbles. I don’t really believe it from the short amount of time I’ve been with her, but it’d make things less complicated right now if she was mental.

  “Not often, no. But one time something really bad did happen, so I take it seriously.”

  I remembered her black pen scratching, the words “when will it be my time” and her sullen face in her room. Is she psychic or something? She sits still, her eyes focused on her lap. Her fingers are busy shredding blades of grass into miniscule pieces.

  “It ended up not being too terrible after all. You came, and now I’m fine.”

  “I guess so,” I say, but I don’t necessarily agree. I may have just set her up for an even worse fate. When someone’s time has come, life ends. There seems to be no stopping death and trying to do so only escalates the situation. I can feel the imagined scorn from Marcus hanging over me. I push it away with the other thoughts that need to be buried.

  “Hey, don’t look so freaked. My brother would’ve come looking for me, eventually.”

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have interfered,” I say without thinking.

  “What? You would’ve left me out here if you knew someone else was on their way?”

  “Yes, no, I mean no. It’s complicated.”

  “Uh-huh, well, thanks again. I should probably get going.” She starts to pull her wet sock back on.

  “No, wait.” I’m reluctant to see her go. My voice feels strained and quiet. I spend most of my time in silence but I like talking to her. She waits for me to say something, but now that she expects it, I can’t think of anything to say. “I apologize. That came out wrong. I haven’t spoken to anyone in a while.” I look around for any inspiration. “Are these friends of yours? I think they’r
e waiting for you.”

  Three crows waddle and hop in the nearby grass. They eye Jules and her purple bag with curious black eyes. She half turns to look. I notice the slight frown around her mouth soften as she watches our visitors.

  “Oh, these guys. They’re the local beggars, or kings, depending on who you’re talking to.” Reaching into her bag she produces a pack of crackers. As she opens the crinkling cellophane, the beggars cock their heads watching with one eye at their treat. She tosses the crumbs in a wide spray sending the black vagrants scrambling. The largest of the three squawks indignantly at its brother for taking the biggest piece.

  “So they are friends of yours.”

  She answers me without taking her eyes off the crows. I watch with her as they pick at the bits of cracker on the ground. The iridescent sheen catching the light on their black feathers reminds me of all that is unknown in this world. These birds hold a special kind of magic.

  “They’re good friends to have.” She addresses the birds next by bowing down to them. “Ah, good day to you fine feathered friends. Three crows I see; good luck to me. Better to see you than those wily magpies.”

  “What’s wrong with magpies?”

  “Three magpies on your left will surely bring bad luck. And one at your door means death to a loved one. It’s an Irish superstition, and I’ve had enough of that today. These crows are a good omen.”

  “Is that where you get your green eyes?” I ask.

  “Um, yes, my mother is Irish,” she answers in a quiet tone and still her eyes don’t meet mine.

  I think I’ve made her uncomfortable again so I try to make up for it by telling her my own superstition. “Did you know you can see into the world of the supernatural if you stare into a crow’s eyes?”

  “Why would someone want to see into that world?”

  “To know where we come from, and where we are going. To see what exists beyond the physical.”

  She quotes something I’ve never heard before. “From creation we are born and when we die we then return.”

  “Do you believe that?”

  “I don’t know. I just made it up.” She pauses biting the side of her lower lip. “After today, maybe I do.”

  “Do you believe we have a pre-destined amount of time in this life?” What am I spewing? Back out now, Nathaniel, before you cross the line.

  “That could be, or maybe we come here for a certain purpose and when it’s complete, we’re done. Then we move on to something better.”

  “Very optimistic,” I say dully, thinking of my own situation. Was this so-called existence better than my life had been? Living had been hard, but also great in so many ways. I’m not convinced I moved up the existential ladder.

  “So what’s your theory?” she asks.

  “I think there are things we’re not supposed to know while we’re living. Besides, I can never get a crow to hold still long enough to look.”

  “Let’s make a list. Things that are inexplicable: creation, death, and the afterlife. Do you want to add anything?” She sounds almost playful, teasing.

  I don’t feel playful but I’ll play along if it means I can stay like this for a few more minutes. “How about cruelty?” I add remembering Ashley’s up-turned nose on her self-righteous face.

  “Okay, we can definitely add cruelty. You wouldn’t believe how cruel some people are.” Jules glares down the trail.

  “I bet I would.” Watching people when they don’t know I’m there reveals many undesirable aspects of human behavior, including cruelty.

  A short silence falls between us. I still don’t want her to leave. Any time with her is a moment stolen from fate. “Is this what you normally do for fun?”

  She turns back toward me. “Are you referring to the hypothermia, almost breaking my ankle, or the near mountain lion attack? You need to be a little more specific.” Her smile reaches her eyes and she blinks long black lashes at me.

  “All of that. It doesn’t seem to bother you. But what I meant was this.” I gesture to the meadow, and the forest, and the surrounding mountains.

  “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, summer in the mountains. This is heaven, minus the accidents of course.” Her hand brushes the grass with an open palm and her eyes look honest and open.

  Her genuine nature sucks me in deeper. Open honesty and sincerity is refreshing to say the least. It makes me feel as if I don’t have anything to hide from her, though of course I do, but I want to experience more of this, more of her. “Then I might be able to find you up here again sometime?”

  What is coming out of my mouth? I’m losing it. I can see her again, sure, but she can’t see me, not until after. There are limits. Rules to follow. I know this.

  “Maybe.”

  She sounds flirtatious, I think, as I watch the pink lips of her perfect smile.

  “But maybe not, I have to survive one more disaster first.”

  “How do you know?” I ask, shocked.

  Is she guessing her future or does she know something? I suppose real psychics do exist, but I’ve never met one.

  “You know, things happen in threes. You have to pay attention to the rule of three or it’ll upset the gods.”

  She’s joshing me. Her eyes twinkle under raised brows as she continues.

  “I almost fell off that cliff, and I nearly froze to death, so I have one more and then I’ll be in the clear, or I’ll be dead.” Her hand toys with a yellow flower now as she speaks.

  “What about the mountain lion? Why isn’t it on your list?”

  “Well, I’m not counting it because I never actually saw it, I only heard it. I think it would have had to actually make an attempt for it to count.”

  “So it has to meet specified criteria to make the cut?” I ask.

  “Exactly.”

  She sounds as if she is only half joking, and it disturbs me. She’s so close to the truth, too close.

  I need to leave her conscious presence. I’m too comfortable talking to her and what good will it bring me? None, I’m sure of that. They come and go like passing traffic and all I am is a crossing guard.

  “Well, do me a favor and survive the next one.” Serious discomfort rattles me as I tell her and Jules hears my fear. She studies me with curious eyes and a tilt to her head. I imagine she’s taking in my conjured up physical form. It’s not exactly fake; I look the way I had when I died. I was twenty-two then, young, healthy with short brown hair and gray eyes. I liked to wear blue jeans and tennis shoes, and I had a favorite charcoal gray sweatshirt back then, so I find it easy to assume these non-descript clothes. Marcus says I look wholesome, handsome, and perfect for what I am. For whatever that’s worth — not much in my book. Who cares what a dead guy looks like anyway?

  I want to keep her distracted from looking too closely at me. She has already proved to be more sensitive than anyone I’ve dealt with before and to be honest with myself I’m not ready for any personal questions. Too late.

  “Who are you? And why…”

  I pretend to not hear it and interrupt her mid-sentence. “You have something stuck to your arm.”

  “Huh?”

  It worked. She looks down at her forearm.

  “...Oh yeah. I put that there.”

  We both look at the mushy green dressing.

  “What is it?” I do want to know for curiosity’s sake but also I am trying to keep her focus off me.

  “It’s yarrow and plantain. It stops the bleeding and helps the skin heal.”

  “Is your arm going to be okay?” I have too much concern for her injury. Over involved Nathaniel, that’s me. I’m not cut out for this position. A scratch will make no difference to a corpse. My innards clench with the anxiety of the vision of her lifeless… Stop this!

  “It’ll be fine.” She assures me by flexing and bending her wrist and elbow. No fresh blood appears. “I guess I’m lucky I didn’t fall worse.”

  “I hope your luck holds out,” I say flatly.

&nbs
p; She narrows her eyes at me and I try to explain myself. “Three times a charm right?”

  “Mmm-hmm,” she agrees. “I have to thank you again; umm… what’s your name?”

  “Nathaniel.”

  “Thank you, Nathaniel.”

  I can’t see anything but her soft mouth as she tries my name for the first time. “Thanks aren’t necessary,” I mumble as I watch the tip of her tongue moisten her lower lip.

  “Oh, I have to go. I promised my brother; well… I have to get back to my house. It was nice to meet you, Nathaniel.”

  “And you,” I say, knowing she has no idea how much I mean it. Then I add, “If you like, you can call me Nathan.”

  “Sure, and I’m Juliana Crowson.”

  I am so stupid. I haven’t even asked her name. Juliana suits her more than Jules, I decide. It’s prettier and flows, like her long hair down her back.

  She stands and brushes off her backside. She tests her foot and says, “Wow, it feels great, like nothing even happened.”

  “That’s good.”

  “Are you visiting for a while then?” she asks.

  “I’m not sure yet.” I answer in all honesty then realize something, “How did you know I’m visiting?”

  “It’s a small town. Maybe I’ll see you around.”

  “Probably.” Truth bursts from my mouth again.

  “I work at Native Naturals in town. If you need anything I could hook you up. You know as a thank you, or something.” She starts to walk away.

  “Thanks,” I say already feeling the distance between us. “Juliana,” I call out. “Please be careful.”

  She looks back over her shoulder and gives me a quick wink. Something ignites deep in the pit of my stomach that feels like a sparkler, bright and tickling. Stop now or have regrets for the rest of eternity, I warn myself. I let go of my hold on the physical world and disappear from sight.

  ∞

  Juliana

  I winked at him. I’ve never winked at anyone in my entire life. What would possess my eye to betray me like that? I look at my watch and for the life of me I can’t remember when I left the house. Urgggh, not a clue. How long have I been out here? Does it even matter? I would’ve stayed past dark talking to Nathaniel if I hadn’t made myself get up and leave.