Recalled (Death Escorts #1)(23)
Author: Cambria Hebert

I climbed into my car and pulled away from the curb.

Only one way to find out.

* * *

The GPS in my car directed me back to where Mr. Burns lived. The man at the front gate waved me through without question, probably because he recognized the car. When I got to the house, I parked and jogged up the stairs to ring the bell. When Mr. Burns himself greeted me, I stood there gaping like an idiot because I really thought he wasn’t the type of man to open his own door.

He smiled when I stared. “The staff has the night off.”

That seemed to shake me out of my stupor. “You gave me a defective body,” I said. “I want a new one.”

He opened the door wider and motioned me inside. “It’s cold, come in.” Once inside, he turned to me, looking rather amused. “What is wrong with your body, Dex?”

“I think it’s rejecting me.”

He laughed. “Rejecting you? That’s impossible.”

I didn’t like being laughed at. “My stomach always hurts. There’s this weird tugging right here,” I said, pressing my palm beneath my ribs. “And sometimes I feel shaky and dizzy. So, either this body doesn’t like me, or there’s something wrong with it.”

“I can assure you there is nothing wrong with your body,” Mr. Burns said smoothly. “Would you care for a nightcap?”

I didn’t know what that was, but I was pretty sure I didn’t want it. “I want answers.”

“You’re body is merely doing what it’s programmed to do.”

“You programmed it to be sick?” Maybe being a Ghost Escort and not having a body wasn’t that bad if all the bodies this guy handed out were damaged.

Mr. Burns laughed, his thin lips pulling into a smile. “I programmed it to kill.”

Of all the things he could’ve said, that was the last thing I imagined. “You what?”

“Tell me, do you mostly feel the way you described when you’re near your Target?”

“Yes.”

“That’s because it’s your body’s way of reminding you to do your job.”

“I don’t need a reminder.” And if I did, I’d set the alarm on my iPhone.

“It isn’t just you; it’s all the Death Escorts. You all have a physical reaction when you are around your assigned Target. That tugging sensation you described is your body’s way of urging you closer, telling you it’s time to kill.”

He was serious.

“Do you not trust us to get the job done without your reminder?”

“It isn’t a matter of trust. All my Escorts do their job because the alternative is far worse.”

Once again, I wondered why going to hell was that terrible.

Mr. Burns continued. “I’ve found that programming the bodies this way makes it easier for the Escorts. At least for their first few kills, and then they pretty much ignore the internal signals and complete the job on their own.”

“Why would feeling like I want to barf make my job easier?”

“Because instead of focusing on what you must do, you focus on feeling sick and making that feeling go away.”

He used it as a distraction. Almost as a trick.

“Have you always programmed the bodies?” I asked, already guessing the answer was no.

“When I first started out in the Escort business I did not. But there were too many Escorts failing and my losses were great. So I started this and now not nearly as many fail.”

“But some still do.”

“Yes.” He looked at me levelly. “Some fight their own bodies. Some end up warring against themselves. It’s such a shame because they will never ever win.” His voice held a note of warning and I knew it was for me.

Did he know I’d already failed to kill Piper twice?

“Well, now that I know that there isn’t anything wrong with my body, I can focus on my work.”

Mr. Burns smiled. “Wonderful! Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“No,” I said, turning back to pull open the front door. Snowflakes swirled inside and landed on my shoe.

“I’ll walk you out,” he said, motioning for me to wait. I watched as he grabbed a long black coat and put it on. Then he reached toward a bowl on a slim table against the wall. The bowl was filled with light-colored stones, just like the ones in his office.

“What are those?” I asked as he chose two and slid them into his pocket.

“Just a little token I like to give people I visit,” he replied and ushered me out the door.

We stepped out into the snow. The big white flakes fell steadily from the dark sky. Snow had a way of blanketing everything, making everything quiet. But tonight, even the heavy white flurry couldn’t silence everything.

“And Dex?” Mr. Burns said as we stepped onto the driveway and headed to our separate cars. I glanced over my shoulder. “Time’s a wasting.”

As I walked to my car, I could’ve sworn I heard the ticking of a clock.

Chapter Eighteen

“Found – come upon unexpectedly or after searching.”

Piper

Alarm clocks are evil and vile. They make constant noise, disrupting sleep and making it hard to stay buried under the covers away from the world.

I don’t know how many times I hit the snooze button, but I do know I didn’t become fully conscious until the shrill ringing of my phone finally had me throwing back my covers and searching for my bag. I didn’t really care who it was, but I wanted the ringing to stop.

“Hello?” I said in relief when I finally silenced the ring. I carried the phone back to my room and climbed back into bed, pulling the covers up over me.

“May I please speak with Piper McCall?” asked the woman on the other end.

“This is her,” I replied, trying to think up something evil to do to the telemarketer that would dare call this early.

“This is Nancy Holland calling from Fairbanks Memorial Hospital.” I pushed the covers back and listened a little more closely. “You called a few days ago about a man who was brought into the morgue.”

“Yes, that’s me,” I said, fully alert now.

“I have Doctor Patricks here and he would like to speak with you.”

“Okay,” I said, wondering if it was the same doctor I saw in the morgue.

The line was silent for a moment and then I heard someone pick it up and a man with a familiar voice came on the line. “Ma’am, I’m Doctor Patricks.”

“Yes, I remember,” I said, thinking of the little card still tucked in the frame of my mirror.