Free Death Becomes Me (Call Me Grim Book 2) by Elizabeth Holloway Page B

something important. “Hold on. If Bobby told Abaddon we were in his house, why didn’t he come as himself? It seems stupid to try and catch two stray Reapers in the hard-to-control body of a dead girl.” He smacks his forehead with his palm. “Unless, he needed her.”
    “Annalise?” My brain slowly wraps around the idea.
    “Yeah.” His hand slides down the side of his face. “How come I never thought of this before?”
    “What?” I ask, exasperated. I hate it when he gets like this.
    “I’ve never seen him outside of the Gateway. Ever. He always summoned me to him with the Scythe.” He touches the empty space where the Scythe used to circle his thumb. “What if he can’t leave? What if he used the girl because he couldn’t summon us without a Scythe and he needs a body to leave the Gateway?”
    It makes sense. But that might be the tiny shred of optimism I still have inside of me talking. If Aaron’s right and Abaddon can’t leave the Gateway, then if Kyle keeps the people we love away from it, maybe they’ll be okay. Maybe we didn’t sentence our friends and family to zombiehood when we left Carroll Falls. I hope that’s the case. Because I don’t think I could live with myself if it’s not.
    But a huge question still tugs at the edge of my brain. If Abaddon needs a body to leave the Gateway, how did he manage to get Annalise?

 
    7
     
    Our feet touch the cracked asphalt of a parking lot. Pain blossoms in my injured ankle with the impact and I grab Aaron’s arm to stop myself from falling flat on my face. A curse word flies from my mouth.
    “You okay?” He steadies me.
    “Yeah. Just this damned ankle. It hurts like hell.” I limp a few steps, testing how much weight I can put on it without it screaming in protest. “I can’t imagine what it was like to have your whole body covered in these things.”
    “It wasn’t fun, I’ll tell you that. But they do heal.” He stoops down in front of me. “Let me see it.” He reaches for my leg. His fingers lightly graze the back of my calf as he guides my foot to his lap.
    Three distinct stripes of my raw, bleeding flesh circle my lower calf and ankle just above my blood-soaked sock. Fluid-filled blisters line the charred edges of the wounds, where there’s still skin left to blister. Aaron leans closer. He doesn’t touch the tender hamburger meat that used to be my leg and ankle, but I still flinch.
    “This needs dressing.” He gently places my foot back on the ground. “And antibiotic ointment.”
    “And pain medicine, too. Let’s not forget that.” I suck air between my teeth when my heel hits the pavement. In addition to the pain, we’ve been flying for hours on little sleep and zero food and my muscles ache with exhaustion. The greasy scent of fries and burgers surrounds us. “And maybe some dinner,” I add.
    The rising moon peeks from behind the skyscrapers in the distance and reflects off the windows of the buildings around us. I have no idea what state we’re in, much less what city, but I’m sure Aaron knows.
    My cheeks prickle with heat. It’s probably petty of me, but it’s irritating that Aaron can see where we’re going when we run and I can’t.
    “You know.” I try to keep the annoyance out of my voice, but I know it’s there. “You really need to teach me how to see when we run. I hate not knowing where we are all of the time.”
    “I will.” Aaron ignores my tone and takes my hand. He marches us across the parking lot toward the fast food joint where that glorious smell must be coming from. “After we get your ankle taken care of and eat.”
    “So, where are we?” I jog to keep up with his long strides.
    “Chicago.” He leads me past the burger place.
    “Chicago?” I say, disbelieving. I’ve always wanted to visit Chicago. There’s so much art and culture and great food and people. Everything Carroll Falls isn’t, and I’m finally here. But there’s something else about Chicago. “Wait. Didn’t