Free His Name Was Death (Dead Man's Tale Book 1) by J. Eric Hance Page B

speak.
    The cab wasted no time driving away.
    As a general rule, the Seattle area doesn’t have slums or projects like most major US cities. Sure, certain areas are considered more or less desirable, but those are spread throughout the city and surrounding neighborhoods.
    Rainier Valley is the closest thing to an exception.
    The Valley, one of Seattle’s most “ethnically diverse” neighborhoods, is southeast of downtown. It roughly follows Rainier Avenue South and Martin Luther King Jr. Way. It’s the kind of place that’s constantly being cleaned up, revitalized, improved, and “taken back.” When you hear about gang trouble in Seattle, it’s typically in Rainier Valley.
    A lot of people will tell you the Valley is perfectly safe now, for anybody, any time, day or night…that the gangs are under control, or have been driven out entirely. Of course, none of those people were around as I stood there alone at midnight.
    We’d passed a lot of run-down, empty storefronts on our way here. The residential street to which my red guide had led the cab, two blocks east of Rainier Avenue, was filled with cheap, dilapidated housing. Graffiti covered every street sign, as well as most of the homes. A few cars sat on blocks, separated from their tires.
    One window in four was either busted out or covered with duct-taped cardboard. Many doorways, like dark yawning mouths, stood open—the houses abandoned long ago. Nearly every yard was shaggy and overgrown with weeds.
    My pulse raced, my mind frantically flitting back and forth between what would happen when I reached my destination, and what might happen on the way there.
    Elliott whimpered at my feet.
    The bouncing red light blazed suddenly to life beside me, launching eagerly down the street and around the corner.
    I hurried to keep up.
    I was terrified of reaching my destination, but I was far less interested in being left behind. My companion stayed at my side, head constantly swiveling as if trying to watch all directions at once.
    It was eerily quiet and deserted, even for the middle of the night, which ratcheted my nerves even tighter. The bouncing red light led us at just short of a jog for almost thirty minutes, constantly changing direction, ducking down different streets. I wasn’t even sure how far we’d gone.
    In that whole time, we didn’t see one other person.
    I didn’t know if my guide was avoiding people, or if the people who lived here didn’t feel comfortable being out in the dark.
    And I wasn’t sure which was worse.
    The pulsing light vanished suddenly and I stumbled to a halt, breathing hard. Elliott collapsed at my side.
    I growled angrily. “Why the hell couldn’t the cab just take us wherever we’re going?”
    Elliott stood, still softly wheezing as he responded. “No one must see you near an assignment, Reaper—no one should remember your presence. The guide does what it must to ensure your anonymity. You do not want mortals to associate you with death. It can lead to…problems.”
    I shivered, imagining what kinds of problems Elliott might mean.
    The pulsing light flared up suddenly, taking shape. A glowing red, ghostly figure stood before me, facing ahead. Its cape was clearly visible, rustling lightly in a nonexistent breeze. The cowl was drawn to obscure its features—not that I needed to see them. In its right hand, it held a scythe which towered over its head.
    A red Reaper.
    The quintessential Angel of Death.
    My heart leaped into my throat; I tried, and failed, to swallow it down. Emma’s words had struck an emotional chord, had spurred me into action.
    I hadn’t stopped to think.
    The very thing I feared, that I’d vowed to avoid, was here.
    If there was any other way, I’d take it; tonight had cruelly taught me there was no other option.
    Terrifying.
    Inescapable.
    It was time to wear the uniform.
    It was time to be a Reaper.

IX
    The Reaping
    I took several deep breaths, staring through the glowing form at the houses