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On the day Graham received his alert, he insisted on spending his End Day working. If he could die saving lives, it was a better way to go than one last lay. The officers were pursuing a Decker who was signing up for Bangers, the challenge for online feeds that has had a heartbreaking amount of daily hits and downloads the past four months. People tune in every hour to watch Deckers kill themselves in the most unique way possible—to go out with a bang. The most popular death wins the Decker’s family some decent riches from an unknown source, but for the most part, it’s just a bunch of Deckers who don’t kill themselves creatively enough to please the viewers and, well, you don’t exactly get a second shot. Graham’s attempts to prevent a Decker from riding his motorcycle off the Williamsburg Bridge only got himself killed.
Andrade is doing his damn best to get that snuff channel terminated by the end of the year. No way in hell he can share a beer with Graham in heaven without getting this job done. Andrade wants to focus on his real work, not babysitting. That’s why he has their foster parents signing release forms this very second. Let them go home with firm warnings so they can sleep.
And grieve.
Maybe even find their friend if he’s still alive.
If you’re close enough to a Decker when they die, you won’t be able to put words to anything for the longest time. But few regret spending every possible minute with them while they were still alive.
PATRICK “PECK” GAVIN
4:59 p.m.
“Maybe he’s dead already.”
Peck has notifications turned on for Rufus’s Instagram, but stays personally locked on anyway. “Come on, come on. . . .”
Peck wants Rufus dead, of course. But he wants to deliver the killing blow.
RUFUS
5:01 p.m.
The line for Clint’s Graveyard isn’t as long as it was last night when I was headed back to Pluto. Not even gonna start speculating if this means everyone is inside or if they’ve gone and died already. It’s gotta be the greatest club, hands down, for Mateo. They better let me in even though I don’t turn eighteen for another few weeks.
“Weird coming to a club at five,” Lidia says.
My phone goes off and I’m banking on it being Aimee when I see Malcolm’s dead-ass ugly profile pic. “The Plutos! Oh shit.”
“Plutos?” Lidia asks.
“His best friends!” Mateo says, which doesn’t really scratch the surface on who they are to me, but I let it slide because this is so wild even Mateo is tearing up for me. I bet I’d be the same way if his dad called him right now.
I answer FaceTime, walking away from the line. Malcolm and Tagoe are together, legit surprised I answered. They’re smiling at me like they wanna tag-team bang me.
“ROOF!”
“Holy shit,” I say.
“You’re alive!” Malcolm says.
“You’re not locked up!”
“They can’t hold us,” Tagoe says, fighting for space so he can be seen too. “You see us?”
“Screw all of this. Roof, where you at?” Malcolm is squinting, looking beyond my head. I have no idea where they’re at either.
“I’m at Clint’s.” I can give them a better goodbye. I can hug them. “Can you guys get here? Soon?” Making it past five has been a fucking miracle, but time is running out, no doubt. Mateo is holding Lidia’s hand, and I want my best friends here too. All of them. “Can you grab Aimee too? Not that asshole Peck. I’ll beat his ass again.” If there was a lesson I was supposed to learn here, I didn’t. Dude ruined my funeral and got my friends locked up, I get to deck him again and don’t try to tell me I’m wrong.
“He’s lucky you’re still alive,” Malcolm says. “We’d be spending our night hunting him down if you weren’t.”
“Don’t leave Clint’s,” Tagoe says. “We’ll be there in twenty minutes. Smelling like prison.” Funny how Tagoe swears he’s a hardened criminal now.
“I’m not going anywhere. I’m here with a friend. Just get here, all right?’
“You better be there, Roof,” Malcolm says.
I know what he’s really saying. I better be alive.
