The Afterlife Series Omnibus: Heaven, Hell, Earth, Wasteland, War, Stones Read online

  The Afterlife Omnibus

  By Mur Lafferty

  HEAVEN

  HELL

  EARTH

  WASTELAND

  WAR

  STONES

  The Afterlife Series Omnibus

  Heaven, Hell, Earth, Wasteland, War, Stones

  Version 2

  Published by Restless Brain Media on Smashwords

  Copyright © 2015 Mur Lafferty

  “Heaven Must Be Boring” Copyright © George Hrab. Used with permission.

  Creative Commons BY-NC-SA

  This is a work of fiction. Resemblances to persons living or dead is coincidental.

  CONTENTS

  HEAVEN

  HELL

  EARTH

  WASTELAND

  WAR

  STONES

  HEAVEN

  By Mur Lafferty

  * * *

  The Afterlife Series I

  This book is dedicated to the listeners, who encouraged me to take the step from one story to a series.

  Thank you.

  Heaven must be really boring

  If you think about it logically

  All the angels must be snoring

  Who could stand perfection for eternity?

  Not me.

  “Heaven Must Be Boring” ~George Hrab

  BOOK ONE: KATE

  CHAPTER ONE

  My best friend Daniel and I died when we were twenty-four. It didn't occur to me that we could die. How many times have you heard that? We were young, healthy, in our prime, blah, blah. Death was never on our minds. I’d believed that your youth is the time of greatest potential, but when you’re a dead piece of meat in a crushed Toyota, your potential for greatness drops to zero.

  Truth be told, my potential for greatness had never been that high. In high school, I fit in comfortably enough with the “smart kids,” but I never won any awards or tried out for any scholarships. I just got by. In college, I focused mostly on hanging with friends and pining after my best friend. I dropped out midway through my junior year.

  When I visited home for the holidays, my parents ignored the white elephant of my college failure in order to craft the illusion of a happy family, but my grandmother wasn’t buying it. She was one of the few people I trusted, simply because she didn’t feed me bullshit.

  Christmas afternoon, she pulled me aside. “Kate, we need to talk about this college thing.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Grandma, I told you-”

  She waved me silent. “When I was a young woman, President Kennedy said that we were going to go to the moon, not because it was easy, but because it was hard.” She pointed outside her window at the night sky. “Most people take the easy route. Can’t blame them. It’s easy.” Her eyes flitted toward the living room where my father was working on keeping the couch firmly planted on the floor. She’d never said a bad word against her son. Then again, she didn’t have to.

  Obviously, this time she was talking about me, too. I had taken the easy route since high school; going to Sarah Enigma University instead of University of Tennessee or Duke, then dropping out with no major declared, no stellar grades in one specific area that would set me on my path.

  That night, I was still ashamed, defiant and angry. I patiently nodded while Grandma Melissa made me feel worse and worse, then went out to have a beer with Daniel, my best friend, roommate, and long unrequited love.

  Daniel and I had a place in Boone, NC, close to the SEU campus. I was working for a florist and Daniel had become a clerk at Belk in the Boone Mall. We were both fully entrenched in our single twenty-something lifestyle. Other than actual success, death was the next-furthest thing from our minds.

  Unfortunately, the car crash that took my life also killed Daniel. When we died, our obituaries didn’t say, “he never got caught cheating his way to his BS degree, which he used to sell men’s clothing at Belk,” or, “she chose her college based not on building a bright future, but because she was in love with a guy who treated her like a sister.” They trumpeted how everyone liked us: how close I was to my grandma and how Daniel came from a tragic background, only to end his life tragically. They also went into great detail about our work with the local homeless shelter.

  The funny thing is, Daniel only worked at the homeless shelter because his girlfriend Kayra Nhoj worked there and he wanted to impress her, and the night of our death was the first time I had gone with him. The papers didn't say that, either, nor did they say how reluctant I had been to go.

  What can I say? Desperation has always scared the shit out of me. When I was a Girl Scout (which the papers mentioned) I cried when we took Halloween candy to a nursing home to brighten the residents' day (unmentioned). Uncomfortable with the stale smell and the toothless grins, the dingy nightgowns and the hopeless vacant looks, I trailed behind the girls in my troop. I peeked into an open door and saw an ancient man struggling to get out of bed. His hospital gown hung open at the back, and I could see his spindly legs, his sexless, nonexistent butt, and his knobby spine. I was sure he would shatter if he fell. Before I could look away, he slipped and scrabbled at the bed's supports, but went down.

  I screamed and ran to get a nurse, who took care of it with such calm command I wondered if she were a robot. How could anyone human not run and hide from the vision of people decaying before they’d even died? I never told anyone this. Not my grandmother, not even Daniel. He always invited me to go to the shelter and help out with him and Kayra, but I always refused. The night of our deaths, he finally snapped.

  "What is your problem?" he yelled at me. He was driving me to the library so I could read while he slopped soup into the trays of the hopeless or whatever it was he did. Rain poured down. I had nothing but a light sweater, and I cursed my lack of planning.

  "I just don't like it, okay? I can't handle it!"

  "Don't you even care? These people need our help. You can give it to them."

  I was silent.

  "You can't catch it, you know. You won't leave and find out the super has locked us out of the apartment, your teeth are loose and you have scabies."

  "Oh, come on. You're only there because of Kayra. If you broke up tomorrow, you wouldn't go back."

  "That's bullshit. And quit blaming me for your issues. You’re just afraid."

  "I never denied that, I just-"

  "You just don't have any empathy, that's all. Christ, Kate, sometimes I wonder if you care about anyone but yourself."

  We pulled up to the curb in front of the library and stopped with a jolt.

  "I'll pick you up in two hours. Be ready," he said, not looking at me.

  I stared at him for a moment but he never looked my way. I sighed and got out into the rain. I didn't watch him peel out, and refused to react when he splashed a large puddle onto my back.

  Inside, I dripped on the carpet while a librarian watched me uneasily. I didn't blame her; I was soaked. You don't want a wet sponge - nor a woman resembling one - near books.

  Daniel was wrong. It wasn't a lack of empathy, it was too much. I cared so much for these people that I was afraid I wouldn't be able to help them at all, that my work would be emptying the ocean with a bucket. I'd rather feel bad about my inability to empty the ocean while I was on dry land than while drowning in the depths, so I stayed away. How can you combat poverty and old age? I wasn't a politician. I wasn't a philanthropist.

  Daniel had once told me that if he could give someone a meal and a smile, then that was worth it. These people didn't have much. Therefore they didn't need much to make it bett
er. I would bet my life that Kayra told him that. Perfect Kayra.

  But that didn't mean it wasn't true.

  I squelched over to the pay phone and called a cab.

  CHAPTER TWO

  I had expected the homeless to have colorful names like Soupbone Ike and Deacon Walthers. I expected them to have stories about boxcars and pie. I expected them to be like the homeless on TV, brave and cheerful.

  I was wrong. They had names like Helen and Mike and Mrs. Amigone. There was a “Dareth Kasar” but he didn’t speak English. None of them told many stories. They were quiet and grateful and greeted Kayra with a quick hello, barely acknowledging Daniel. After the initial meeting, the other workers helped me set up tables and greet some early arrivers. Melissa, the woman in charge of the shelter, put me on kitchen duty, using my minimal cooking skills to make soup and cornbread. The evening passed quickly, my fear devoured by frantic cooking, a burn on my forearm from a cast iron skillet, and sweat.

  Daniel broke my trance with a gentle hand on the back. “Kate. Take a break. Come sit down; you’ve been going for three hours.”

  I blinked and looked at him, my neck creaking. “Let me get this cornbread out of the oven and I’ll meet you outside.”

  He grinned at me and left the kitchen. I put on hot pads and removed the cornbread, turned it out of the pan onto the serving platter, sliced it with the dull chef’s knife, and passed it off to Horace, the runner between the kitchen and the food line. I left the kitchen, wiping my hands on my dirty apron.

  Most of our customers, as Kayra called them, had left. Daniel and Kayra sat at a table with two old men, laughing.

  One of them had a long white beard spotted with troubling stains; the other was craggy, but clean-shaven. Both spoke with accents I couldn’t identify.

  “You don’t understand,” the clean-shaven man was saying. “Myths are created from journeys. Someone comes to town. Someone leaves town. There is always movement.”

  Kayra shook her head. “But I watched nine hours of war, hairy feet, and crying hobbits to see them do something that would have taken those ginormous eagles fifteen!”

  “No one would have changed,” he said. “Yes, the threat would have been gone, but more happened in the story than just the ring getting thrown into the volcano. Characters grew. The rightful king came back. Those wars removed corruption. If you go the easy way, nothing changes and nothing grows. Sauron would have been gone, but what about his armies? What about Saurumon?”

  Daniel waved at me when I sat down. “Kate, this is Isaac and Mr. Big,” he said. I shook their hands, trying not to think of how dirty their hands were. “We’re just having a Lord of the Rings argument.”

  “Ah,” I said, sitting down. “So you’re saying that the journey is key, not the destination.”

  Isaac nodded fervently. “You know, some things are sweeter when you work harder for them.”

  “I don’t know,” Kayra said, frowning.

  “Eh, you’re young,” Mr. Big said. “You will learn.”

  “Kate, Daniel, it was a pleasure meeting you,” Isaac said, standing up. “But my companion and I must now continue on our journey.”

  Kayra flushed at the obvious slight and I wondered why the man had left her out.

  Daniel didn’t seem to notice. “Are you leaving town?” he asked, standing and shaking the men’s hands.

  “Yes, but I’m fairly certain we’ll see you again,” Mr. Big said. “Life is a journey, after all. Miss Kayra, it was a pleasure to meet you as well, and pardon my companion’s rudeness.” Isaac fumbled with his coat, pulling a ragged hood over his head, ignoring Mr. Big’s comment.

  Kayra shrugged and smiled at him. Her smile was luminous, and I could see how she had enchanted Daniel. “Please come back if you ever need a hot meal. You know we’re here.”

  He nodded. “You are indeed, Miss Kayra. Until next time, Daniel, Kate.”

  We waved and watched them go out into the storm.

  “’Mr. Big?’” I asked, laughing at last.

  “It’s not his real name, but he said that’s what it translates to,” Daniel said.

  “What language?” I asked.

  “He didn’t say,” he said. He turned to Kristen, frowning. “I’m sorry they were rude to you. I don’t know what their deal was.”

  She pouted a bit, but Daniel’s hug seemed to cheer her. I tried not to watch the exchange, choosing instead to clear the remaining tables.

  “Kate, don’t worry about it. We’ve worked an hour past our volunteer time; other people will be in to clean up,” Kristen said.

  “Do you want a ride home? I’m staying at Kayra’s tonight,” Daniel said.

  “Thanks,” I said, depositing the dishes into the bus tray.

  As the three of us prepared to head out into the storm, I took a deep breath and looked around the dining room, marveling.

  I had survived.

  #

  Kayra’s apartment was close to the homeless shelter, and she said she had to “get something ready” before Daniel came over. She giggled as she said it, and my insides clenched. We dropped her off, Daniel kissing her messily before she got out. I watched the rain fall.

  “Are you going to get in the front seat, or am I going to drive Miss Daisy?” he asked, glancing at me in the rear-view mirror.

  I grinned. “It’s raining like hell, and I kinda like this. Home, James!”

  Daniel laughed. “You know, you were great tonight.”

  “Thanks. I’m glad I did it. And it was good to spend some quality time with Kayra,” I said, hoping he wouldn’t notice that the latter was a blatant lie.

  “Yeah, she’s great, but I don’t know. I’m not sure if it’ll last,” he said, stopping at a red light.

  “How come? I thought you guys had so much in common; that it was meant to be; that she was so great in bed?” Daniel had never held back the gory details when he talked about his dates; I usually returned the favor by talking about my period.

  “Yeah…” he trailed off.

  I laughed. “You got bored with her.”

  “I guess. It’s just not exciting anymore.”

  “Well, real love isn’t supposed to be exciting for all eternity; otherwise our parents would always be groping each other like it was prom night. Did your parents act like they were in love?”

  Daniel’s shoulders stiffened, and I cursed myself. He didn’t like to talk about his parents, but I thought perhaps I could get an inroad here. I didn’t know much about his mom, who had died the year before he and his dad had moved to my town, back when he was still a little kid.

  I stumbled and regained my footing. “Look, you’re going to have to realize that love changes, just like people do.” I tried to catch his eyes in the mirror, but he didn’t look up, so I stared out the window at the deluge. It hadn’t let up all night.

  “Well, I don’t have to accept it yet,” he finally said. “I’m not ready to find ‘the one.’ I still have years and years to date.”

  I laughed. “Whatever, dude.”

  “So what really made you decide to come to the shelter tonight?”

  “I don’t know. You were right, I guess. I was afraid. My grandma always says I need to be braver,” I said, looking at him. He grinned at me in the rear-view mirror.

  I smiled back at him, relieved. I loved his smile. For a moment I forgot that I was going home alone, that he was going to drop me off and then return to the dirty surprise waiting for him at his girlfriend’s. I forgot he wasn’t mine.

  He glanced at the road and then looked back at me. He laughed nervously. “What? Why are you staring at me?”

  And I think I would have told him. I think I was finally ready. I’d faced one fear that night, why not another? I took a deep breath.

  But then Daniel swore and pulled the wheel hard to the left. Neither of us had seen the red light until it was too late. Headlights filled the interior of the car, screeches, horns, and then horrible crunching sounds. It was all v
ery slow, and during the split second between the barrage of sound and the white-hot flare of pain, I reached out to Daniel, but never touched him.

  Then, nothing.

  CHAPTER THREE

  I think everyone, on some level, is honestly confused and curious about what happens after death. Should I have expected to grow wings? Travel toward a bright light? Hear the call of beckoning relatives? Fall into a fiery pit?

  The crash played over and over again. Only in retrospect did I realize this, since my awareness and emotions were the same every time: shock, fear, and then nothing. Each time it was loud, bright, and painful. I don’t know how long we went through it, again and again. Days? Years?

  Then, finally, it stopped.

  I awoke in a hospital. I felt fine, whole. Whatever had impaled my side was gone. I felt nothing but smooth skin underneath the hospital gown.

  The room had pale yellow walls and a glazed window that let only weak light into the room and granted no view. I was not hooked to an IV stand or any monitors and had no idea why I was still in the hospital. Did my parents know about the crash? Would they tell Grandma Melissa? Was Daniel okay?

  I couldn’t find the nurse’s call button, so I just got out of bed. My gown hung open at the back and I blushed, though no one was there to see.

  I hadn’t been in a hospital since I was a girl; I remembered it being busier. I opened the door and peeked into the hall.

  Unlike the room, which had been drab but clean, the hallway showed signs of considerable neglect. A gurney with a broken wheel leaned against the wall, the dingy sheet was rumpled on the floor next to it. Pale red and gray blotches stained it; I swallowed and looked away.

  Dirt and dust lay on the floor half an inch deep, devoid of footprints to mark anyone’s passage. I stepped back on the clean floor in my room and closed the door. My heart thundered in my chest and I leaned against the door to quell the rush of panic. Where was everybody? I wanted to cry out, but I feared the unanswered sound echoing through the halls more than I feared being alone.