More Than Flesh & Bone

Chapter 33

THE MISSY'S

I was tired. Cranky. It took us almost two hours to walk back and the van was only just barely in sight.

"This zombie shit blows," I grumbled as my back pocket buzzed.

"Reaper," Zed sighed under his breath. "And yeah… it's a thankless job."

My phone buzzed again.

I reached around and pulled it from my pocket. The buzzer going off repeatedly as messages, missed calls, and voicemails flooded in. All from Bree.

I swiped right and a solid block of text appeared.

YOU NEED TO GET HOME!

ADDIE, THERE'S BEEN AN ACCIDENT!

I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO!

CALL ME!

It only got more desperate and garbled from there. I scrolled to the very bottom and the last message made my stomach sink and my chest squeeze.

Zayne escaped.

I was running as fast as I could toward the truck. Except the person with the keys was lagging. I needed to get out of here. Now.

I ran a hand through my hair and paced back and forth, my heart beating rapidly. Blood rushed to my head and the thundering was so loud I almost didn't hear Zed yelling, "Addie, what's wrong?!"

What's wrong?

The question bounced around like a ping-pong ball in my head. Words wouldn't come out. I lifted my phone, showing him the message. His face tightened. The muscle in his jaw ticked.

I could see the moment it clicked, and he said, "I'll get the keys."

He was off, running while I continued to pace. My mind was a muddled mess as the need to get home consumed me.

"You might want to brace yourself," Gretel said, appearing beside me.

"Not now, kid. I've got more important things to deal with than Sabrina the teenage ghost."

Her head tilted as she studied me. "What is it with you and insisting on calling people the wrong name?"

I squeezed my eyes shut. "Fuck off, Gretel!"

"You sure that's what you want?"

The way she said it had me looking at her more carefully. "What do you know that you aren't telling me?"

"A lot of things."

If I could have choked her out, I would have.

Zed was running back, the keys held up in his right hand. He clicked the fob, unlocking the car. Since he was the one with the keys, I moved to the passenger side. It was probably better if he drove right now anyway. It was beyond hard to focus.

Gretel moved through the door, settling in the backseat as Zed slid into the driver's side. I glanced at her in the rear-view, but didn't acknowledge her further. The ghost wanted to hitch a ride? Fine. Not my issue right now.

I'd barely finished shutting the door when Zed was throwing the van in reverse. "How the hell did this happen?" he asked, flying down the road.

"I don't know. Bree said there was…" my throat went tight, choking off the rest of the words.

Zed reached over and took one of my hands with his. "Whatever it is, we'll handle it. We will find him, Addie. I promise."

His palm was warm against mine, and it helped steady me. I nodded, not seeing anything as I stared out of the window. "Just hurry," I said. "I don't have my gate clicker. Drive through the gate. I don't care. Just hurry."

Zed pressed harder on the gas, and I instinctively reached for the oh-shit bar.

A ride that should have taken almost thirty minutes only took ten.

It was a miracle we hadn't gotten pulled over.

The front gate to the driveway had been left open, and I felt my stomach tighten more. The van came to a screeching stop right in front of the door. I was out and running before Zed killed the engine.

Throwing open the front door, I shouted, "Bree! Where are you?"

She was sitting on the bottom of the staircase, her head bowed and her entire body shaking.

"What happened? Where's Missy?"

Slowly, Bree lifted her head, her eyes red-rimmed and her face tear-stained. "She's…"

That's when I noticed the blood.

White noise filled my head as panic lashed through me.

Bree's lips were still moving, but I couldn't hear her over my thoughts. I turned for the basement. The door was open. I didn't even have to shift my head to make out the bent leg at the bottom of the stairs.

"No… No, please, no…" I said, scrambling forward.

With each step, mores of Missy's body came into view.

A sob racked my body, threatening to consume me.

Blood. There was so much blood. It covered the last step and splattered the cement floor. It matted her hair, and I followed the path of it down her body to the leg that had been purposefully broken.

Her eyes were closed.

She looked peaceful, almost like she was sleeping.

I screamed, a raw, unhinged sound.

No words. Only noise. Only pain.

My breaths came faster, harder. My chest heaved. I felt faint. Dizzy. My mind was racing at a million miles an hour, but no real thoughts took shape.

This is what Gretel had meant.

What she'd been trying to prepare me for.

Zayne killed Missy. He held true to what he said that first night we brought him here.

Hatred bright and burning filled me.

I was going to end him.

I wasn't sure what being a Daughter of Death meant just yet, but I had a feeling that I could make him pay.

Dark thoughts were twisted inside of me when someone coughed. I ignored it, and they did it again. Anger and rage unfurled in me as I turned to lash out.

"What do you…" My mouth fell open as I choked on my words.

"Well, don't get mad at me," Missy said, holding up her hands. In one of them was a ghostly machete. "It's not my fault I died."

I spluttered.

"Excuse me," another voice chimed in. "Our fault," it clarified as a second Missy popped up. "You act like it's all about you."

"Well, she is me," a third one said. "And I am her. And she is us." It shrugged.

I squinted, my mind feeling like it was being pulled in different directions trying to process what was happening.

They were all Missy, but unlike the other ghosts, they weren't as solid. Every now and then one of them would flicker in and out, like a channel losing reception.

"H-how many of you are there?" I asked.

Another popped up, standing in front of the first three. "Four," it declared.

"Why are there four of you?" My heart was racing again, but this time for a whole new reason.

"Dunno," the third Missy said.

"The dipshit hit us in the chest with both his hands like this," the first Missy said, mimicking a motion where she made two fists and put them together, then punched forward.

"Then, we woke up here," the fourth one said.

"Zed…" I called out, though it was closer to a croak after all the screaming I'd been doing.

He appeared at the top of the stairway. His face solemn. Bree's head popped around the corner next to him.

"I'm so sorry, Addie…" he said. "I'll make sure he can never…"

"How do you shred souls?" I asked, cutting him off.

He regarded me closely, as if weighing whether to tell me. Then he made two fists and put them together, punching outward in a swift motion and breaking his fingers apart after. "That's the action, the actual process is harder to explain. You have to hit someone's chest where their soul is anchored to the body and physically rip it apart…" Zed trailed off. "Did he… shred her?" he asked with a grimace.

"I think so," I said slowly. "She's here. Well, four of her are here."

I motioned to the ghostly quartet, and they half-waved, the first waving her machete.

Zed inhaled sharply and started down the stairs. Bree followed at his heels.

"Do you think there's a way to put her back together?" I asked them.

"I… don't know," Zed said, stopping short. "But reapers can't see the souls of the dead. You can. Maybe there's some way…" I could tell he wanted to believe it. He wanted there to be a way. He didn't really think there was, and I could hear that in his voice.

I let out a tight breath, focusing on the four Missy's.

"Have you guys tried touching each other?" I asked.

Missy One elbowed Missy Two in the face.

Okay. So that clearly wasn't going to work.

"How about…" I looked down, an idea occurring to me. "Have you all tried touching your body?"

"But that's how demons are created," Zed interrupted.

"When a single shard of someone's soul enters, yes. The four combined are Missy, though. Think about it," I said, a spark of hope growing within me. "That's how we managed to come back. Why should it be different?"

"Because they're fragments."

"But together they're a complete soul," I insisted.

Zed shrugged. "Worth a shot."

I turned back to Missy, trying hard to convince myself all the blood on the floor was just paint. "Alright, each of you take a side."

The ghosts exchanged glances before the one I found first gave a little shrug. "Might as well."

"Try to do it all at the same time," I added on instinct, as the four figures took their places, Machete Missy standing near her head. The others were harder to keep separated without something to identify them. Hopefully that wouldn't matter for long.

The ghosts crouched down, each one holding a hand out over my aunt's body.

"Alright, on the count of three."

"One… two… three."

The ghosts dropped their hands, and their flickering forms disappeared as a soft glow emanated from my aunt's corpse.

The was a moment of tense silence, and Bree, Zed, and I stared expectantly at her figure before the body jerked and repaired itself before our eyes.

Then there was a huge gasp as my aunt shot into a sitting position.

"Now that was a hellofa trip. When can I ride again?"

"Missy, that wasn't a trip," I said, relief making me lightheaded. "You were…"

"Dead. Yeah, I know. I was there."

I lunged forward, wrapping my arms around my aunt and squeezing her hard, breathing in the familiar scent of paint thinner as I buried my face in her neck. I knew I'd be covered in blood when I pulled away, but it didn't matter.

"I love you," I managed, pulling back to look at her face.

She cupped my cheek in her hand and smiled. "I love you too. Now get off me."

With a watery laugh, I pushed off of her and held out a hand to help her up. Once we were both standing, I turned to the stairs where Zed and Bree were waiting, both looking shocked, but happy.

Bree pushed around Zed as she scrambled down the stairs to throw herself at my aunt. Missy caught her with an oof.

"I'm so sorry," Bree said, emotion thick in her voice as tears streamed down her face.

"Shh," Missy said, patting Bree's back. "This wasn't your fault. It was that Zombie boy that killed me, not you. No need for tears. Or guilt," she added, her eyes finding me and Zed over Bree's shoulder. "That boy has a temper, though."

Bree pulled away and wiped at her face, settling into one of the only unbroken chairs in the room.

"What happened?" I asked, glancing between them. "How did he escape?"

"I was putting Plan B into effect. You know… attempting to wake him up… but when I went to nudge him- gently like," she said, winking at Zed, "he grabbed my ankle and pulled me down."

"He'd been pretending," Bree said. "I think he might have been eavesdropping and waiting for a chance to make a run for it, but I couldn't tell you what he may have overheard. I was taking a nap when this happened. After staying up all night waiting for him to wake up… I needed a few hours. I didn't expect him to do anything."

Zed and I exchanged a glance.

"Anyway," Missy continued. "He took me out and made a run for it. It was over before I could even open my mouth to call for help."

Exhaustion was pulling at me, the extreme emotional shifts of the day too much for my brain and body to process. It felt like my head was stuffed with cotton while my body was filled with lead.

"Any idea where he'd run off to?" I asked Zed. He was covered in dirt and sweat, his body rigid with pent-up emotion. While I was pretty I was going into an emotional dead zone, Zed was nowhere near as calm.

He shook his head, looking beyond frustrated with the admission.

With a sigh, I shrugged. "Well then… I guess the only thing we can do right now is clean up this mess and get some sleep. We'll deal with the rest of this shitshow tomorrow."

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I'm home! I have electricity and running water! I even unexpectedly have internet! Now for the cleanup to begin.