Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross Part 4

Rule #2:A Reaper Shall Not Subscribe to Any Ideology As a Reaper, any ideology subscribed to will not be tolerated. We are messengers for a power greater than ourselves and we can not allow any one name or tenet to be placed on that which is beyond our true understanding. All belief systems must be shed and an open mind must be kept in carrying out the task a.s.signed to you. In the effort to reduce offence to those souls still maintaining the belief they had during their mortal days, it is in the best interest of the firm to not have any belief at all. No matter the faith the a.s.signed soul claimed to during their mortal existence, the requirement to wish them 'eternal peace' must be carried out before pa.s.sing the soul through the door that is their reward.

Brigit could see the sense in that rule. It would be an easy one to follow as she had never really subscribed to any faith to begin with. She had always agreed that there was a power out there greater than her self. It was just easier to accept that notion than all the rules and regulations that no one, in her opinion, seemed to follow anyway. Finally, she turned to the third page.

Rule#3:A Reaper Shall Not Pa.s.s Their Own It is in strict accordance to this rule that a Reaper must abide. Under no circ.u.mstances may a Reaper open the door for one of their own blood or endearment. This includes: wives, husbands, lovers, children, grandchildren, great-grandchildren, nieces, nephews, aunts, uncles, grandparents, parents or any relative that can be listed on a family tree. A Reaper unrelated must be a.s.signed the task of pa.s.sing any relatives to their reward. In the event that an unrelated Reaper is unavailable, the task must be put on hold until such a time that it can be completed by said unrelated Reaper. There will be no exceptions to this rule ever.

Brigit reread the rule again as she felt a spasm of fear begin to roil in her gut. She couldn't fathom not being present when Maggie's time came. Surely there had to be an exception a loophole-somewhere. She looked up from the book in her hands down the hall to the darkness where Maggie was sleeping. If this particular rule was set in stone, Maggie would definitely never know that Brigit had kept her promise. A panic began to rise in Brigit's gut. She had to find the loophole, no matter what the consequences of it might be.

Pushing her panic aside, Brigit turned the page and continued reading.

Traveling to the Reapee Once you have fully understood your role as a Reaper, you will be allowed to begin completing your a.s.signments as they are a.s.signed. Portfolios will be handed out at the beginning of each work week. Under ideal conditions, the work load will be evenly dispersed amongst all field agents for completion. Since Death is a constant force in the mortal plane, there will always be an a.s.signment to be completed.

The portfolio is the history of the soul that is to be pa.s.sed. In it, every second of their mortal existence will be recorded. Read the portfolio carefully before traveling to the Reapee. This will expedite the process of pa.s.sage once you have arrived at their locale.

To travel to the Reapee, look to see where they drew last breath. There, you will find them waiting their fate. From the main office, simply state the location before stepping outside. On the other side of the door will be the place you have been a.s.signed to complete your task. Main doorways maybe used as portals to the next a.s.signment to be completed or to return to the main office at any given time. Any and all questions regarding this topic should be directed to your mentor immediately.

Slowly, she closed the book and returned it to the table beside the chair. The rules were simple, if not agreeable. Travel to a.s.signments seemed easy to understand. There were three more pages to read, but Brigit was done for now. John would show her the rest of what she needed to know. The third rule was still echoing in her mind in a voice that she didn't like.

Silently, she stood and slowly returned to the bedroom. Maggie was still sleeping peacefully. Carefully, Brigit lay on the bed and curled herself around Maggie. She could feel Maggie's warmth against her body and she focused on it to quiet the voice that was repeating rule number three over and over in her mind. Though she was sure it was more out of habit than actually feeling Brigit's presence behind her, Maggie sighed deeply and pushed herself in closer to Brigit. There was no sign of a shiver that so often ran through Maggie when Brigit touched her. In fact, the warmth between them seemed to intensify as Brigit carefully wrapped an arm around Maggie's waist and held her tight. Every reason to find the loophole to rule number three was curled against her and Brigit became determined to find it no matter what the cost.

7: Training Day

Brigit arrived at 666 Bleecker Street shortly after sunrise. Maggie had left the apartment early to make sure she made it to her first day back to work on time. Mama Dee had tried to persuade Maggie to wait another week; but Maggie had resisted the notion with the argument that it was only for a week. Thanksgiving Break was the following week and she would have a few days to rest up before enduring another month of teaching before the Christmas Break came around. Brigit had followed her partner out of the apartment and once they hit the sidewalk, they went their separate ways for the day.

666 Bleecker Street was a thin door nestled between 666 and 668 Bleecker Street. As Brigit stood in front of it, she searched her memory in an effort to see whether it had been there before her accident. She couldn't remember seeing it at all. Yet, Bleecker Street was not a neighborhood that she had really frequented during her life. Any memory, if it existed, would have been brief and most likely forgotten.

A small plaque was mounted next to the thin door. She only had to glance at it briefly to know it read: Reapers, Inc., Est. 34 A.D Reapers, Inc., Est. 34 A.D. As she opened the door, she wondered where the original office had been once upon a time. New York City was only a couple of centuries old. There were no buildings on this particular spot in 34 A.D... Surely, this office was a relocation of the original.

Doors with frosted paned gla.s.s lined the hall behind the main door. Her footsteps echoed off the dark wood paneled walls as she walked slowly down the wood paneled floor. A door was opened at the end of the hall and Brigit could see a dim light burning within the room beyond it. Glancing to the ceiling, she was amused to see the faces of gargoyles peering down at her as she pa.s.sed beneath them. Gargoyles, she knew, were protectors from evil. It amused her that the offices of the Grim Reaper would be decorated with such emblems of superst.i.tion.

"You're here,"

Brigit's attention was pulled from the grotesque faces lining the ceiling to the opened door before her. John Blackwick was standing in the doorway, his short frame blocking the dim light behind him.

"You had your doubts?" Brigit asked as she continued the short distance to his office.

"Not at all," John replied. "Come in."

Brigit entered the office and glanced around. The room was larger than she had thought it would be. Bookshelves lined the walls, standing as tall as the ceiling. Black bound books without t.i.tles were crammed into the shelves. To the right of the room, Brigit took note of the wall of boxes that had been stacked in front of the bookshelves lining the real wall. John's desk was s.p.a.cious, she imagined, when it was clean. At the moment, it was covered in hundreds if not thousands of portfolios stacked neatly. A small s.p.a.ce was clear, revealing the dark mahogany wood that supported the work load he had lain out for himself.

"Did you read the guide?" John asked as he walked around the desk and resumed his seat behind it.

"The bulk of it, yes," Brigit replied.

"Good. Are you ready to begin, then?" He asked. He began sorting through a short stack of portfolios before him.

"No time like the present," Brigit answered as John stood again and picked up three of the portfolios that he had separated from the pile. She watched him stuff them inside his suit coat pocket and then look at her.

"Take a walk with me," he instructed. "Unfortunately, we have no time for proper training. Per the handbook, you're supposed to wait until we are sure you understand your role as a Reaper before being turned loose in the field. Since we are the only Reapers in the world at this time, you'll have to do on-the-job-training I'm afraid. Ask any questions that come to mind as they come. I'll do my best to answer them," he promised as he walked to the door of his office.

Brigit watched him pause long enough to pull a long black walking stick from the bronze umbrella holder sitting against the only bare s.p.a.ce on the wall. There were a couple of others there that looked as if they had seen better days. Brigit wondered what John could have done with them to beat them up so badly. A question came to mind as they began walking down the hall towards the door that had let her in.

"What do you mean we're the only Reapers in the world?" she asked.

"They all retired about six months ago. I've been doing this on my own since then. When the Bailey caused your accident, I saw an opportunity to start re-growing the firm, especially after I finally received your file. Per your portfolio, you're an a.s.sistant extraordinaire extraordinaire. I have the need for such a qualification. With your help, I believe we can rebuild the firm and re-open the other continental offices once we have the appropriate staff. Shield your eyes," John instructed gently before opening the door and allowing Brigit to pa.s.s by him. Before she had time to register what he had told her to do, the intensity of the light just outside the door blinded her.

"Oh, G.o.d d.a.m.n!" she gasped as she covered her eyes with her hands, as if the intensity might actually melt her eyeb.a.l.l.s directly out of the sockets.

When the light stopped pulsating, she slowly lowered her hands and looked around her. They were standing in the empty hall of a hospital. Brigit knew it was a hospital simply by the smell and the eeriness that she had a.s.sociated with such a building since her grandfather's pa.s.sing when she was a little girl.

"Where are we?" Brigit whispered.

"We're at St. Clare's Hospital in Oklahoma City. We have three a.s.signments to complete here and then we'll be on our way back to the office. Here," he withdrew a portfolio from his coat pocket and pa.s.sed it to her. Slowly, Brigit opened the folder and began to read.

"Sarah McDowell, April 3rd, 1982," she read out loud. "What's the date?"

"Her pa.s.sing date," he replied.

"You've kept her waiting sixteen years?"

John shrugged somewhat apologetically.

"The Reaper a.s.signed to her was somewhat of a lazy b.u.m. He liked to take his time in getting to his a.s.signments. Sadly, I've been a somewhat backlogged these last six months, I'm sure you can understand..."

"Let's hope Sarah McDowell will understand," Brigit retorted. John shrugged sheepishly again and began walking slowly down the hall. Brigit knew she had no choice but to follow him.

She was waiting for them by the window, staring out across the city skyline bathed in the bright sunlight. There was a peaceful look on her face as she watched the horizon. Brigit noted that the expression did not alter as Sarah McDowell turned to face her visitors. She studied them both, dressed head to toe in black. Sarah McDowell recognized them for who they were and why they were finally there.

"I've been waiting for you," she said sweetly. Brigit guessed the woman to have been in her mid-fifties. Her children were finally grown, her husband almost ready to retire. Sarah McDowell seemed not to be bothered by the loss of her golden years. Instead, a sense of patience emanated from her even after all this time of waiting.

"I apologize for the delay, Sarah. Are you ready to go?" John asked. A pleasant smile came to the waiting woman's face.

"Yes, it's time," she said.

Brigit studied the other woman's smile as she moved away from the window and approached them. She was unsure whether the smile was one of relief or one of true happiness that the wait was over. As they entered the hall together, Sarah looked up at Brigit. There was an inquisitive expression in her green eyes.

"Will you be crossing as well, dear?" she asked.

"No ma'am," Brigit replied. "It's my first day on the job."

"Oh, I see. You'll do fine, I'm sure," Sarah said kindly.

"Thank you, ma'am."

They turned down a gla.s.s corridor that connected one section of the building to another. Half way down, a wooden door had been mounted. It was a plain door that refused to look normal against the gla.s.s and the scenery outside. Brigit wondered why anyone would put such a design error in this type of building. As her confusion continued to grow, John stopped in front of the door and turned to face Sarah McDowell.

"Is this the place?" Sarah asked, stopping as well before the door.

"It is. Sarah McDowell," John's voice took on a solemn, almost priestly, tone. "May you find eternal peace," he wished her. Slowly, he extended his left hand and opened the door for her. Sarah nodded and winked at Brigit.

"Better late than never," she sighed.

As Sarah stepped through the opened door, Brigit detected the scent of flowers wafting from the other side. They accosted her senses so quickly that she was unable to discern each individual fragrance. It was sweet and warm like rich honey. Brigit closed her eyes momentarily to savor the smell and its affect on her mind. There was a peace felt within the affect unlike any she had ever known with the exception of being in Maggie's arms. When she opened her eyes again, the door was gone and John was staring at her with a slight look of amused patience.

"Where did the door go?" Brigit asked.

"Sarah has pa.s.sed through. There's no further need for it."

"Where did it lead to? How did you know to bring her here to the hall?"

"The hall seemed more picturesque, don't you think? As for where it lead, it was to my left; so, it lead to Heaven, the Summer Land, eternal peace whatever you want to call it." John explained as they began walking along the corridor again.

"Was that your decision?" Brigit asked as she opened the little black folder to see if a judgment had been previously issued and recorded there. Her brows knitted together upon the sight of a blank page where Sarah McDowell's life had been just minutes before. All that remained were the woman's name and her pa.s.sing date.

"We are not judges, Brigit, merely the deliverers of a soul to their fate. Come, we have more work here to be done," John said without looking at her. Brigit lengthened her stride to keep up with him while her mind continued to race with questions.

"How do I know where they go? Do they always have a door to go through?"

"They do."

"How do I know which one to send them through?"

"Did you really read the guide, darling, or just skim it as if preparing for an early morning quiz?" John asked patiently. He didn't wait for an answer. "You will have one of two options when dealing with a Reapee. A door will always appear either to your right or your left. Do you believe in Heaven?"

"I don't know," Brigit replied honestly. She had never subscribed to any particular faith's belief in the after life and as a consequence, had never given the after life much real thought.

"Heaven will be the door to your left. h.e.l.l is the door to your right. Only one door will appear for each soul."

"What if both doors appear?" Brigit asked as they turned the corner. In the distance, she could hear the cries of a baby. It sounded agitated.

"They won't," John replied.

"Are you sure?"

"In the time that I have been a Reaper, I have never witnessed both doors appearing. Our predecessors never mentioned any such incident occurring. I will venture on to say that if it's not mentioned in your field guide, it won't happen," John surmised.

Brigit frowned as they approached a room sealed off again by a wall of gla.s.s. Behind the gla.s.s, Brigit saw the rows of baby basinets. Most of them were occupied with little bodies covered in the obligatory pink or blue blankets.

Except for one...

Brigit's gaze fell on the uncovered baby. Its tiny arms were flailing over its tiny head trying to communicate its irritation. This was the baby she had heard as they were walking down the hall. She wondered why this baby wouldn't receive the same attention the other babies were getting. She wondered why it had been left uncovered and unidentified by pink or blue.

"Baby Girl Riley," John said quietly. "Hold this please," he requested, pa.s.sing the long black walking stick to Brigit. She took it in silence and held it gently by her side.

Together, they approached the wailing child and stood over her. Her bright blue eyes glistened with the tears that she had been summoning to no avail. John gently lifted the baby from its crib and held her close to his chest as he cooed soothing words to her. Brigit watched in silence. His expression had changed. It had a softer look, one of a sad joy as he held the baby girl in his arms.

She watched as John carried the child to a door and waited for him to open it; but his reach never extended toward the handle. Instead, it opened from the inside and Brigit saw a small woman in a white robe emerge. There was a gentle smile on her face as she gazed at the whimpering child cradled in the Grim Reaper's arms.

Carefully, John kissed the baby on the forehead and pa.s.sed her to the small woman. Brigit remained silent as she watched the other woman receive the infant and began to sing softly to her. It was a soothing sound and Brigit couldn't help but to let her gaze stay on the other woman. She noted the woman's lips never moved and that the words were in a language she had never heard. The woman and the child pa.s.sed back through the door and it was gone again. John remained where he stood for a few seconds, as if trying to regain his composure.

"Who was that?" Brigit asked when he turned to face her again.

"Her name is Mary. She receives the children on the other side."

"That song she was singing? What was it?" Brigit asked as he reached inside his coat and withdrew the third black portfolio.

"It's a lullaby. Don't ask me what language it is in, though. It's a tongue that hasn't been spoken since G.o.d was a child," he sighed as he read the contents of the file in his hand. Brigit felt herself smiling at the slight joke. "Well, one more for this morning and we're done here. My stick please?"

Together, they left the nursery. After a long silent walk, they found themselves in the bas.e.m.e.nt. Brigit shivered from the sinister eeriness of the room. Something was not right here. Ever hair of her body told her as much. Instinctively, she slowed her breathing and tensed her muscles in preparation for an attack.

"Demetrius Rudikov, show yourself," John commanded. She looked at him, surprised by the sudden forcefulness in his voice. He was gripping his walking stick like a club, as if he too were ready for a fight. "Demetrius Rudikov,"

"GO AWAY!"

Brigit stepped back just as a force of wind flew past her and hit the supply shelf next to her. Boxes of bandages toppled from the shelf where they had been sitting to the floor at her feet. She looked to John and was alarmed to find him in the death hold of the monster he had called out. By the stench that filled her nostrils as they wrestled, she easily guessed which door this one would be going through once they had him under control.

Quickly, Brigit sprang into action. Her boot to the monster's backside caused him to release John and turn on her. He was snarling, like a rabid animal that had been cornered. His stench mounted with his fury as he hunkered down to leap on her. Despite the distraction of his skin peeling from his face, Brigit never let her attention leave the yellow eyes that were a.s.sessing her.

"John, where's the door?" she asked as she took a step back from the approaching monster.