I shut off the engine, but before I get out of the car, I stroke the dashboard gently.
“I’ll miss you,” I whisper.
I circle the building on foot, heading to the loading dock. There’s a key code for this entrance, but I figured that out ages ago.
I find CJ in the preparation room under a spotlight, standing over a dead body on a slab. They’re in scrubs and protective gear, their normally coiffed hair flat against their head, goggles biting into the scar running down their cheek.
They must have felt me coming, but they don’t look up as they pull something that looks like tongs out of the corpse’s nose.
“Hey.” I wave awkwardly, keeping my eyes anywhere but on the body on the table.
The room is a lot brighter than they show in movies. White walls and a pale pink tile floor. Easy to clean, with a drain in the middle, right under the table. Next to CJ, there’s a tray of tools I don’t look too closely at.
I’ve been here a handful of times, but this is the first time CJ has been working. The smell is what gets me. It’s not the scent of decay, which I’m honestly used to by now. Instead, it’s the embalming fluid, sickly sweet and sterile.
CJ doesn’t spare me a glance, but I know they’re waiting for me to tell them what I’m doing here.
“I’ve got a job—”
“No,” they cut me off, not stopping their work. They put a length of cottony fabric on the end of the tongs, and the whole thing goes right up the corpse’s right nostril.
“Hear me out,” I say, then pause to dry heave, because it’s possiblethe sound is worse than the smell. I take a deep breath, which probably isn’t the best choice, and continue. “This job is…big. Big challenge, even bigger payout.” I take the money tack—not because CJ is greedy or anything, but because they’re infinitely practical. Running away from home at thirteen will do that to you. “I’m serious. If we do this—you know what, could you maybe not do that while I’m here?”
CJ has stuffed the white fabric deep into both nostrils and is now shoving some down the body’s throat. They give me an exasperated look that saysI’m at workand pick up a long hooked needle. Oh god.
I know, I see Dead people all the time, but I’m used to being around their souls, not the bodies they leave behind. There’s something especially disturbing to me about corpses. Maybe it’s because I was trained at a young age to be careful with how I disposed of any shed organic material.
Or maybe dead bodies are just gross.
I pick a spot behind CJ’s left ear and stare. “I get it. I should have texted. But you always leave me on read. I assume you’re having trouble sending texts. If you haven’t done the new update, I can help.”
CJ grunts but otherwise doesn’t respond.
“We do this job and we’re set for life. And probably the Afterlife.”
I put my hand out to lean against a nearby table, then remember the drain in the floor and decide against it.
“It’s a little unorthodox, I’ll admit, but OH MY GOD WHAT ARE YOU DOING?”
CJ looks up and blinks at me. “I’m sewing his mouth shut.” They push the needle out the right nostril and pull the string through as if to demonstrate.
“Why would you—why—but—what—why?”
CJ lifts their eyebrows, sets down the string, then puts one fingerunder the man’s chin to push his mouth closed. When they move their finger away, the mouth drops back open automatically. They demonstrate a few more times, the mouth closing and opening in slow succession.
“Stop, stop! I get it! I get it, okay?”
CJ shrugs and goes back to work. “I wish I could do this to you,” they mutter.
I give them a sarcastic smile but forge ahead. “This job is big. I just need a crew. He offered a shitload of money—”
“What’s the job?” CJ asks, pulling a thread that’s now coming out from just under the man’s jaw. With a yank, the corpse’s mouth snaps shut.
“It’s to…stealasoulfromtheAfterlife,” I mumble.
CJ glares.
“It’s to…” I keep my voice light. “Steal a…soul from the Afterlife.”
