Nathan's Clan of Deadheads Page 5

He didn’t waste time on niceties. “I know about the Keepers you two talked about, but who are these watchers?”

  “Well, it’s nice to meet you, too.”

  “Name’s Nate.” Nathan stretched out a hand.

  “Jack. That there’s Danny.”

  The image over the two sinks in the men’s room of a man talking to himself made Nathan feel a bit foolish. He leaned over to check under the stall door, thinking he should’ve done that as soon as he entered the room rather than being found babbling to himself after the fact, when the answer came to his ears.

  “It’s a group of women—” Jack began.

  Danny interjected with a poke to Jack’s shoulder. “I heard there are some men, too.”

  “Who cares? The point is, this gang goes around looking for folks like you. If they find anyone messing with live people, doing them harm, well, it’s total curtains, baby.”

  Nathan scowled at the ghostly image before him. “And what makes you think I’m doing harm? I’m living. That’s all I’m doing.”

  Jack leaned in to peer right into Nathan’s eyes, then he backed off an inch or two and took a large sniff. Nathan tried to shove him away, but of course his hand swiped through the air.

  A snort of a laugh burst from Jack. “And how long do you ‘live’ in one of these before it… I don’t mean no disrespect, man, but doesn’t it go bad after a while?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. No, it doesn’t ‘go bad.’ ” Nathan found it interesting that Jack, who’d scoffed at the suggestion of a warning, was now the one doing all the talking. He turned his focus on Danny. “But, let me ask you, how did ya’ll know? What gives it away?”

  Danny hoisted himself up onto the counter between the two sinks. “That was easy. When you move, there’s a,” he paused for a moment and shrugged with the word he chose, “stutter I guess you’d call it.”

  “A stutter how?”

  “It’s like the real guy is a split second behind.” Danny’s face lit up in a smile. “Hey, can we talk to him? It’d be cool if we could ask him what it’s like.”

  With his concentration on watching his arm move up and down and around in a large swinging circle, it took Nathan a moment to respond. He shook his head. “I don’t rightly know, but I don’t think he’d respond. After a month or so, maybe longer dependin’ on their personalities, they just kind of fade off into the background.”

  “How do you mean?” Jack asked, joining in again.

  “Watch.” Nathan stepped out of the body and Chris stood there, staring at his own reflection, with no discernible reaction.

  “Ah, that explains the blue blur I noticed when you walked in,” Jack stated, pointing to Nathan’s denim pants. “I thought you might be naked in there.”

  “Now why in the name of Jesus would he be naked?” Danny asked, his voice so full of ridicule that Jack threw a punch that breezed right along as if it hadn’t connected with anything, though Danny did utter a soft, “Ow, what the hell was that for?”

  He couldn’t be sure Jack and Danny didn’t notice the tilt of his head and slight knit to the brow of the borrowed body, as if the person inside noticed his odd surroundings and wondered how or why he’d gotten to be there. Taking no chances, Nathan easily pushed his way back in and leaned against the stall door. “Could we might get back to the issue here, boys? I do have a date waiting.”

  “Sorry, man.”

  Not sure who Jack had responded to, Danny’s question or his own, Nathan asked, “This gang goes around looking for offenders. What happens if they find one?”

  Danny’s hands popped out from his body, fingers splayed. “Poof! They swallow them up.”

  The news rattled Nathan to the core, his brow creased in concern. He swiped a hand across it, and paced inside the small room. He stopped, leaned against the exit door as if blocking it closed would prevent this new breed of watchers from getting to him, and gazed hard at the two men. “Ya’ll ain’t pulling my plow, are you?”

  “Serious as a barn mouser after a rat,” Danny swore, his right hand raised in the air.

  “Shit,” Nathan said, putting more weight against the door. The two deadheads remained in place and watched until Nathan stated in a quiet voice, “Well, what does that change? Nothin’.”

  “Well, I just thought you’d want to know, so you could be a bit more careful. Come on, Jack. My beer’s getting warm.” Danny waved Jack in the direction of the hallway to the bar proper.

  A shivering buzz ran along Nathan’s borrowed body as the two walked through him the way any collisions between deadheads would feel. He turned on the cold water and scrubbed his face while contemplating if he should try to contact Zach with the information. Everyone at the compound expressed the opinion that what they did in using bodies for so long might not be accepted practice. They all felt a bit like guilty children dipping a hand into the cookie jar, but none had ever heard it might be some type of capital offense. Deciding to give it more thought later, he returned to the barroom, signaled for another round of drinks, and conjured his brightest smile.

  Vicky smoothed the material of a sleeve. “Is everything okay?”

  “Just as sweet as can be with such a beautiful lady sittin’ across the table.” Nathan pointed to her half-full drink. “Ready for another?”

  She laid a hand on his as he toyed with his empty glass. A momentary flicker of confusion clouded her expression. “I think this will be sufficient. I sure wouldn’t want to be tipsy enough to miss it when you flirt with me and invite me to your room.”

  The smile on his face broadened. “Now, would a proper country boy do such a thing like proposition a pretty little lady such as yourself?”

  Vicky withdrew her hand and placed it over her mouth. Her brows raised and her eyes grew wide with shock, and laughed. “Oh, my…I sure hope so.”

  Nathan went to the bar, picked up his double shot, downed it in two gulps, laid a one-hundred-dollar bill on the bar under the empty glass and turned to Vicky. He held out a crooked arm and nodded toward the door. “Then what do you say we two-step it right on outta here?”

  In his suite, Vicky ran her hands along the naked torso now under Nathan’s control. “You feeling okay, Nate?”

  He knew the concern exactly and kissed her forehead. “I always seem to run a few degrees cooler than usual. Nothin’ to be alarmed about, I promise.”

  An hour later, watching Vicky sleep nestled into him, Nathan hoped the clumsiness he’d felt hadn’t translated to her. The last question he wanted to hear was why he hadn’t appeared to enjoy himself. Because, even after lying awake through the night he had no answer. It certainly couldn’t be the three double shots of whiskey, he’d consumed more than that before and still functioned. The sense of it escaped him as easily as piglets in a sty.

  With moonlight streaming through the windows, he shook her awake so she could slip out of the hotel before the morning staff began to arrive. “It’s four, darlin’.”

  She rolled to her back and stretched. “Thanks.”

  “A gentleman, particularly a Southern gentleman, keeps his promise.” Even though she’d whispered, “go back to sleep,” Nathan watched as she rolled out of bed, dressed, and threw a kiss as the door to the suite’s bedroom closed behind her. After so many selves, as fleeting thoughts of the bartender crept into the mix, he struggled to understand what was different this time. He tucked his hand behind his head and stared out the window to the cityscape until sleep overtook his brain.

  Chapter 10

  Jenna walked along the dark, empty streets of Dayton without purpose. Her stride and the heaviness of her footsteps caused nearby deadheads to clear a path around her. Since arriving home from the wedding she and Marvin argued a large part of the time. The more he pushed, the more she pushed back. Maybe he was right; maybe she did take her new position with the World Council of Keepers too seriously. She had never considered any job as inconsequential. Not the paying one with the law firm and not the volunteer one with the women’
s shelter.

  The walk, meant to calm her, did nothing to accomplish the goal. The farther she went, the more aggravated she became, the darker her mood. Overseeing a vast network of deadheads who looked after the living victims of abuse could be time-consuming and overwhelming. She just did not have time for Marvin’s interferences and constant complaints. No, not complaints. She may as well call it like it was, whining. Tedious whining.

  Jenna rounded the corner and noticed a couple standing in the road ahead, arguing. With anger in his muffled words, the man grabbed the woman’s arm and yanked her into an alley between two stores. Jenna quickened her pace, stopped at the entrance, and peered into the shadows.

  “You’ll do it if I tell you to.”

  “I said I’d earn my keep, but I ain’t doing that no more.”

  The guy took a fast glance toward each end of the alley and a sudden backhand landed high across her cheekbone. “Keep your voice down.”

  “Screw you, asshole.” The woman lunged away from a swinging fist and headed toward Jenna.

  “You come back here. Kate.” His voice turned apologetic. “Come on, wait up.”

  “What?” Kate halted and turned.

  He grabbed her wrist, and pulled it tight behind her back. “You owe me money and if I tell you to get in a car you’ll do it.”

  The woman looked familiar. Now that the man used her name Jenna was positive. A huff of air escaped her lungs. “I don’t believe this. What, the last guy wasn’t bad enough? A busted arm didn’t convince you, his waving a gun around in a drunken stupor didn’t wake you up?” Why would this woman, one Jenna almost killed for, take up with yet another man like the one she’d barely escaped from with her life. Granted, three weeks later in that inebriated state, the idiot shot himself in the head and died right in front of Jason, who gobbled him up and shoved him into a darkness he’d never escape. A long sigh broke from Jenna’s throat. “Now you take up with one pimping you out?”

  “Bullshit, Robbie. I’m not a whore for nobody. I don’t like it.” Kate struggled against the restraint but got nowhere. “Now let go of me.”

  “You listen to me, bitch—”

  The word developed into a high-pitched scream as Jenna, taking a page out of one of her lieutenant’s books, strode to the man, shoved a fist around his privates and squeezed. He released his victim and grabbed at his groin.

  Kate placed a hand on Robbie’s arm. “What? What’s wrong?”

  “I don’t know, I don’t know. Jesus Christ! Get away from me.” He shook her hand away as he pawed at his genitals. “What the fuck?”

  Jenna tightened her grip and he let out a yell. She turned to Kate with a scowl. “Would you wake the hell up and leave? Go!” Kate stood motionless. “It looks like we’ll have to do this the hard way.” Jenna clamped down hard one more time, eliciting another curdling holler from Robbie, released him, then slid in and took control of Kate’s body.

  Through swift sucking of breath between his teeth, he growled, “Where the fuck do you think you’re going?”

  “You told her to get away from you. That’s exactly what she’s doing,” Jenna replied with Kate’s altered voice, and sprinted away.

  No buses ran that late at night. The walk to the shelter took more than an hour, taking her farther away from home. Using Kate’s fist, Jenna pounded until a light inside cast through the small window at the top of the locked door. “Help. I need help. Please let me in.”

  The deadbolt turned, and the sound of a secondary lock reached her ears before the door cracked open enough for Jenna to stick fingers through. “Please. You have to let me in.” Though Robbie hadn’t followed, she swiveled a frightened gaze left to right in hopes the sentry inside gave in. “Please. He’s after me. He’ll kill me if he finds me.”

  The door flew open and Jenna stumbled into a small lobby. The woman who let her in slammed the entrance closed and threw the locks into place before turning to help Jenna to a chair beside a tiny laminate reception desk. “Are you all right? Are you bleeding anywhere?”

  “No, just…mostly shaken up.” Jenna rubbed softly at the injured wrist and moved up the arm with short, gentle squeezes. “And a wrenched arm.”

  “Let me get you something to drink.” Her slippers scuffed along as she disappeared down a narrow hallway of splotched commercial tile that reminded Jenna of several childhood foster homes. Designers intended it to be a warm, homey feel that never quite worked in her opinion. A moment later cold bottled tea pushed into Jenna’s hand before the woman sat at the office chair, pulled out forms and a pen, and slid them across the desktop. “We’re full, but I think we can put you up for tonight. You’ll have to sleep on the couch in the day room. That all right?”

  A tiny sound of relief, then, “Yes.”

  “Fill out the paperwork. We’ll call around in the morning for any openings.” The woman yawned and ran a forearm across her mouth. “What’s your name, sweetie?”

  “Katherine. Kate.” The pen moved from line to line.

  Middle-aged eyes peered at her, then dyed blonde hair bobbed as she nodded. “I thought I recognized you. You’ve been here before. Same man?”

  A pause to contemplate an answer on the paperwork, then, “No.”

  “Well, that’s something at least.”

  Jenna slipped free. Kate shook her head as if she couldn’t believe what her brain registered. The older woman led Kate down the hall, and Jenna went through the door and headed for home. Her thoughts returned to the troubles with Marvin and she shook her head. “Marital bliss. My God, what would it have been like if we weren’t dead and able to escape through a wall?” She wished once again for the counsel of her old friend Colleen, the one who’d tumbled down the condo stairs with her. They landed at the bottom in a tangle of limbs to the death of them both.

  Jenna had to admit that sometimes this position of power took its toll. Looking after the safety of others grew wearisome, but saving lives made it worth her effort. Marvin would have to accept it or there would be a lot more arguments to come. If he didn’t, well…as they liked to tease one another with the circumstances of their deaths, he could go step in front of a bus. Only she wouldn’t be joking.

  Chapter 11

  After his night with Vicky, Nathan woke mid-morning, showered and dressed in jeans and the shirt he wore the previous evening. As he’d promised himself, he walked to the art gallery found during his cell-phone internet search on the way into the city. On the short hike the few deadheads he passed gave him no more than a typical glance; only enough to avoid walking through a live person. Perhaps it helped to have put thought into each, slightly slower than normal, deliberate movement of limb or turn of head, to ensure complete synchronization.

  Satisfied with the progress on that score and bored with the exhibit, at 2:00 pm he went back to the pub to grab some lunch. Maybe he’d run into the guys from the night before and pump them for more information. Pushing through the door, he stopped until his sight adjusted to the dimness of the room and then made his way to the bar.

  The bartender greeted him, scanning Nathan from head to toe and back to his midsection where his gaze stayed locked, a sly smile on his lips. “Afternoon. What can I do for you?”

  The innuendo wasn’t lost on Nathan. His temperature rose, and a hot blush invaded his cheeks. He lowered his gaze even as he returned the smile, a sensation Nathan hadn’t experienced since he’d been fourteen-years old and the prettiest girl in town brushed against him. Three years older and obviously amused by his condition, she remarked, “Nathaniel Ray Crockett, I do believe you like what you see,” and let loose with a teasing laugh.

  Nathan sat on a stool and ordered a bottle of beer and burger.

  He took his drink to a table, though—for reasons he didn’t understand—he couldn’t take his eyes off the bartender. Now, part of him hoped Danny and Jack wouldn’t show up so he could continue with the introspection of the struggle apparently happening with this new self. He’d been in posses
sion of it for close to three months yet, unlike previous identities, something kept bubbling to the surface. He imagined it akin to watching oil in the cook’s pots boil up and consume the battered chicken she’d delicately lowered in; the pieces pushed their way upward in a fight to the top while his eight-year old stomach rumbled with hunger, eager to be filled.

  The strange attraction to men, and the foreign changes in speech patterns which left more and more of his southern roots behind, concerned Nathan. Not from a guilt standpoint, or was it? Regardless, the struggle to continue his experience of life might be leaving space in the handcuffs, enough for the man inside to keep wriggling out.

  Yet, Nathan wanted the two to show up again in the bar so he could learn more about this new breed of Keepers, these Watchers as Danny and Jack had called them.

  News traveled through the dead world. Even to remote places like his compound, where things of interest learned during trips for supplies would be brought back and shared over drinks or dinner. So, he’d heard something of them, just as he heard about the big wedding which recently took place in the Caribbean; the wedding of the millennium it had been called, or something like that. In fact, it had been rumored the bride headed up this new sect. Of course, he’d been too occupied with a deteriorating body to give those things much consideration at the time.

  Nathan turned his attention to several deadheads enjoying drinks together. They sounded happy, content. But he knew he never would be satisfied on that plane of existence.

  The moment he’d thought of approaching them to see if they might be able to “shine a light on the stash from the still,” as his Pa used to say while searching for a lost item, three deadheads burst through the wall of the building, their stature growing enormous; a woman slightly in front of her female and lone male companions.

  The leader spoke in a loud, stern voice as her glowering countenance hovered over the customers. “We’ve heard about you. We know you’ve broken the rules of the dead by interfering with the living. This will not be tolerated and your punishment is absolute.”