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Don’t Fear the Reaper Chapter 34

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Steady, rhythmic beats brought me out of the dark recesses and I opened my eyes, blinking at the clear bag of liquid hanging above me. I tried to swallow, but my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. I coughed and blinked again, trying to lift my head and I groaned, lifting my hand toward the pounding in my temple.

I stopped and stared at the bandage covering my hand and wrist wondering what happened to leave me feeling like I had just been run over by the school bus. I glanced toward the light and my gaze fell on my mother slumped in the chair by the window, sound asleep.

“Mom?” The word scraped my mouth painfully and she opened her eyes at my distant croak.

“Nick,” she said, straightening in the chair and scooting closer.

“Water.”

She poured a glass from the pitcher on the nightstand and offered me the straw.

The cool liquid soothed my mouth and throat and I slumped back on the pillow, studying the ceiling wondering if I dreamed everything. I couldn’t formulate any of the questions pinging through my mind, they were all way too crazy, but when I dropped my gaze back to my mother’s I saw the grain of truth in her eyes and in her mind and I clenched my jaw.

“It wasn’t a dream?”

“No Nicky, it wasn’t a dream.”

I covered my eyes with my bandaged forearm and the ache in my chest grew, my chin quivered and my throat burned with salty tears.

“Death is my father?”

“Yes.”

“And I stopped the explosion?”

“Yes.”

“No one died?”

Silence filled the room and I lifted my arm, meeting her gaze. She looked at the floor and then back at me and a crushing dread gripped my soul. Lazarus stepped out of the shadows and put his hand on my mother’s shoulder.

“Mom.” Tears blurred my eyes and I blinked, my glance bouncing between them and the hollow pit in the center of my body grew. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

She smiled, “Don’t be sad, Nick, I’m here anytime you need me.”

Panic hit and the next question bolted out of my mouth. “What about Julia?”

“I was able to save her from the explosion,” my mom said.

Relief flooded through me and I glanced at Lazarus. “What about the knife?”

“It’s in a safe place until you’re ready,” my mother whispered and patted her thigh.

The door squeaked open, pulling my attention away from my mother and a figure slipped into the room. I recognized her immediately and offered a sniff and a smile. “Hi.”

She froze for a moment and then crossed the room in a flurry of blond hair and hospital gown and she nearly threw herself across me in a giant hug. “Nick!”

Breathless from both pain and relief, I just wrapped my arms around her and buried my face in her hair, happy that she was alive and still happy to see me after all that went down.

I smoothed her hair and kissed her cheek, thankful for the feel of her warm skin and the hint of strawberries wafting from her hair. Small prayers were answered and I bit my lip, blinking the sheen of tears away.

“Your mom,” she whispered in my ear, her voice choked with emotion.

“I know,” I said and glanced toward the empty chair, already missing her. “But I don’t know why we’re in the hospital.”

“They said we were sitting in a restricted area and a few of the fireworks malfunctioned, acting like a loaded missile which struck the sand in front of where we were sitting. It exploded and killed your mother and knocked both of us out.”

“And what do you remember?”

She stared at me for a long time and then sat up. “I remember you using the knife to absorb the explosion and then there was a flash of light and your mother tackled me. When I came to, she was dead and you were face down in the sand and the emergency crews were rushing onto the beach.

She took a deep breath. “I thought you were dead, too.”

I reached out and wiped the tear from her cheek. “It’s going to take a whole lot more than a few hundred reapers and a bomb to kill me.”

My attempt at humor worked and she cracked a smile.

“What happens now?”

“You think you might like to come to Florida with us?” she asked, raising an eyebrow that told me more than any words could.

I grinned in response. “But doesn’t Florida have alligators?”

The End

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Continue The Death Chronicles with HIGHWAY TO HELL.

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