Revenants of Life: The Ashdale Reaper Series, #4

By G.K. Lund

What is Death without Life?

There are some connections even Death can't break…

While settling into his life as a human, Ben Reed can't forget the reason he came to Ashdale. But with disrupting the balance between life and death, he's now stuck with a nosy guardian he never expected. 

Ward Winter has lived a life of purpose. Unfortunately, now that his hopes and plans have come to fruition, he sees the threat of Ben Reed everywhere. It doesn't get any easier when one of his employees is found burned alive by a murderer who's roaming the city. To make matters worse, a friend ends up missing and Winter goes searching only to find himself facing an old enemy with a new and more dangerous goal than ever. 

When Ben's friend Olivia find a connection between a murder and an old enemy of theirs, as well as a kidnapping, Ben soon finds himself embroiled in a case that will have him questioning his resolve as well as worry for the safety of his friends. What is more important? His hunt for a wayward soul, or the people he has grown to care about?  

 
As a centuries-old truth unfolds, will Ben choose to become a reaper again, or remain human?
 

Revenants of Life is the fourth and final novel in the Ashdale Reaper Series, a tale of human connections, bonds that last beyond life, and souls refusing to permanently heed the call of Death.

The Ashdale Reaper Series is a four-book fantasy series.  

Series completed.

Deadly Awakening #1
Grave Intent #2
Dance of Death #3
Revenants of Life #4

• Language: English
• Publisher: Northern Quill Press
• Release date: Jul 23, 2019
• ISBN: 9788293663331

G.K. Lund

G.K. Lund writes fantasy and is the author of the Ashdale Reaper Series and the Ashport Mender Series. G.K. holds a BA in Medieval Studies and an MA in Archeology and will probably have to put an archeologist into a story one day. Until then, potty-mouthed and kickass characters with other jobs will have to face high stakes and save the day. G.K. also has a love of old stories and folklore; anything that's dark, weird and wonderful.  

Book preview

Chapter 1

The first sign of the fire was a strange hiss, almost like a dried-up scream. Then came the actual scream. Bloodcurdling. I believe that’s an apt description. It sure made me stop dead in my tracks. I knew in that moment that it was something I’d heard before. Recognized it as the harrowing calling that it is. A call for The End. For me. Or my kind, rather. That thought spurred me on, and I changed directions, pulled by that call like any animal when their flock hails them.

Except, no one was calling me. Not intentionally. We were the same, those that facilitated death, but I had decided to take this human form and thereby locking myself away from my kind.

A gargle of a scream shot up again, the pain too great to contain. I wasn’t impervious to it. Not now. I have seen so many die. Have seen so many final moments. My human brain could not contain all that information, and as a mere man, that was for the best. There is only so much a human mind can take. But that scream brought it back. Even if I couldn’t see anything between the buildings on the street I walked, I knew what was happening.

It didn’t hurt that this had been all over the news lately either.

Someone had been burning bodies in Ashdale, my adopted home. This vibrant urban landscape that tamed a forceful river between its north and south side. It was aflame with life due to the people that lived there. Some were worse than others.

I stopped a moment and glanced around. The street I’d turned into was shorter and narrower than the one I’d come from. And there, straight ahead, was light. Not electrical light from the streetlights, no. That light was golden, and it flickered.

I checked my surroundings again. There was no one in sight. I knew it wasn’t the best idea to walk toward a pyromaniac murderer, but the Presence he was inviting always drew me in. I had the sense to pass by and leave it and often did as well. But sometimes the temptation was too much. Still, a now three-time murderer was not what I wanted to see. Having taken over the vacant body of Ben Reed as he jumped off Central Bridge and into the Ashdale River, had left me vulnerable. I still wasn’t sure if I could leave this body and return to my old existence of herding the dead away from their vessels of flesh and bone. I didn’t like thinking about the fact that I hadn’t tried even once ever since I chose to fuse properly with the body. I didn’t like thinking about what would happen if I died without leaving it. Would I return to normal then?

What was even normal anymore?

I was human now, and unlike a panicked scream that rose up further ahead as someone lost it and ran away from the horrors there, I walked toward the travesty. A weak sensation appeared at the nape of my neck then. Weak due to the distance. A tingle, like thousands of pinpricks that spread up into my head.

Someone had just died.

Those moments of being burned alive must have felt like a lifetime.

And the sensation in my head was that of recognition. It felt like my true form, trapped in this young man, wanted out, drawn like a magnet toward something, someone, like me.

Feet slapped down on the asphalt as a runner came toward me out of the semidarkness in front of me. Except for the flickering fire up ahead, the streetlight was poor, due to a couple of them being out.

Oh my God, a shrill voice screamed before the form of a young woman emerged from the shadows. She wore jeans and a red shirt but she was barefoot, one high heeled shoe clutched in her hand. Long blond hair billowed behind her tear-stained face, which was visible due to the amounts of mascara that had blended into them.

Oh God, she wailed again as she ran straight past me, scurrying down the street toward the more trafficked one I’d come from.

I stared after her a moment. It was like her panic had rendered her blind. I certainly had done nothing to appear unseen. Which, when I thought about it, might be a good idea. I may have been human, but I had some tricks to rely on. And since a murderer was nearby, shielding myself from his line of sight was likely a safe course of action. As I walked on, I tuned out the fading steps of the woman and let my mind go. Focused on nothing at all, shut every curious and worrisome thought out. The layer of the dark shadow that enclosed me, like a second skin now, more or less hid me from view. Anyone nearby would simply overlook me, seeing nothing more than a mere shadow and thinking no more of it. It worked best in darkness but seemed to divert people’s attention even in daylight.

Satisfied with my added security, I finally left the street and stepped into an open space, a large square I had not seen before. It was not on my regular route through this quiet part of Charton, west in the city. High-rise buildings surrounded a small park-like square. I could see benches and a few small trees in the darkness, but none of that really mattered as I gazed upon the flames that flickered around a charred and black form. It was obviously human.

If there had been more witnesses than the woman, they had also run away, albeit in different directions. As had the murderer. The twisted limbs of the deceased drew my gaze for far too long. I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman. Yes, I might have seen this more times than one could count but it gave me an uneasy feeling. This wasn’t right.

Keeping myself hidden under my shade became harder a moment. It was difficult to stay focused. I felt myself react to the smell of burning flesh and I felt an uncomfortable pressure in my chest. The poor soul to have been put through such a horrendous death. The pain alone, never mind the fear. I had no doubt of that after hearing those screams.

I glanced around. Three screams to be exact. If one discounted the fleeing woman. The first scream had been very different indeed.

As I looked up I saw people in many windows. The silhouettes all stared outside but no one came. I couldn’t blame them. What could they have done? According to the news, the murderer doused his victims with something combustible before setting them on fire. It had to have happened fast. No one inside could have done a thing.

Except call the police, of course.

The unmistakable sound of distant sirens broke through the unusual silence of this part of the city. I decided to leave. I hadn’t seen anything anyway. They would likely find the panicking witness which would be a good thing. Judging by her reaction, she had at least seen something to make her run like that.

It turned out I had ample time to make my way a couple of blocks away before the sirens blocked out any noise. At this point, I let my shading cover fade and walked on, still unseen due to the noise attracting all attention from the few who were outside.

I withdrew my phone from my jacket pocket to check the time – I had to be late by now – and noticed a text message.

---

You’re taking a cab, right?

---

I smiled and then glanced back in time to see one of the police cars race through a street behind me. Right now, this was a safe place to be. Still, I understood the worry and therefore lied. No need to cause unwanted concern.

---

Yes. Be there soon.

---

I put the phone back in my pocket and walked on. I estimated ten minutes, no more, before being out of the streets. My own calm surprised me. The revulsion and horror manifested in me like any other person nearby. I was so very human, after all. And part of that, for most everyone, is compassion. But the other part, the non-human, patient, and indifferent part, knew that it had been that person’s time. There was no changing that. Still, it shouldn’t have had to happen like that. I sighed as I rounded another quiet corner. People were complicated. Apparently, so was I. It seemed my human self couldn’t quite agree with my other self. I suppose survival instinct will do that. It’s so easy to regard death as a normal and necessary thing when you will be the last one to go. Literally.

I felt a shiver run down my spine. Unless I were to experience my demise way too early of course. No, my brain protested, not liking that at all, every instinct on high alert as I walked down the last block and could finally get inside and be safe.

Chapter 2

I seldom dream. Usually, it’s all black, a void of nothing that fills my mind. Or perhaps that’s where my mind goes? I don’t know. All I know is that sleep was one of the necessities of human life that always disconcerted me. There were exceptions though. Sometimes images appeared in those moments before waking. I believe that’s how it is for most. But they weren’t dreams as such. Not for me. No, they were more like memories… and my memories aren’t like most. There is a distinct difference between waking to the image of an old woman dying surrounded by her family and loved ones, or, as I did that day, waking to the pleading of a woman as she was tied to a ladder. I saw it raised as the cheers of a crowd urged the men lifting it up. Saw the horror in the woman’s tear-stained face as she reached the peak. Her eyes gazed out onto the town around her, her home before the surge of the fall choked any sound out of her. Her unkempt, gray hair and her long woolen skirts flew around her as she and the ladder fell down into the waiting fire below.

My hand twitched on the mattress as I awoke. There was an echo of a pained, primal scream in my head. For a moment I struggled to breathe, feeling a sense of overwhelming sadness for the woman. What a waste. There had been so much cruelty and ignorance. I knew I wouldn’t have thought anything like that when I had actually been there. It was a memory, after all. But I had been detached then. I hadn’t judged or felt anything beyond curiosity. Becoming human had changed all that. I knew now. Knew what it felt like to have people to care for, to want them to be safe. Knew what it felt like to be physically vulnerable. Witnessing things like the murder last night wasn’t without peril any longer. I wasn’t afraid of dying as such. More worried about what would happen after. Good grief – wasn’t I just like everyone else? I scoffed at the thought and then drew a deep breath. The scent of floral perfume, citrusy as well as sweet, floated around me. As usual, it took a moment to realize where I was. The sheets were cool against my skin, the mattress softer than usual, and the light in the room fell from a different angle than I was used to.

It’s like watching a kitten open its eyes for the first time.

I blinked and then turned my head to see Evy standing at the foot of the bed, watching me with a lovely smile on her face. That sight set everything back into place at once. She wore a white camisole and gray yoga pants, her wavy chestnut-colored hair loose around her shoulders. It seemed infused with golden threads on her right side as the sunlight hit it, but most of all she was a vision standing there with a large cup of coffee in her hands. The earthy and rich smell was slowly overpowering the room.

Kitten? I managed, fighting back a threatening yawn.

Evy gave a soft laugh as she moved closer. When you wake up it’s like you need directions but don’t know how to ask for them. How clichéd, Ben. She sat down on the bed and leaned over me to put down the steaming cup of coffee on the nightstand. I, of course, had no idea what cliché that would be, and besides, there was scalding hot coffee nearby; that uplifting ambrosia of dark roasted beans—

Sometimes, I swear you look at coffee with more longing than at me. Evy laughed as my eyes swiveled back to her.

"I beg to differ. I need the coffee because my stupid brain wants the caffeine high. I want to be around you. On purpose."

Her hazel eyes crinkled even more at the corners at this. Ooh, you’ve become quite the sweet talker, haven’t you?

I’ll be writing songs next.

Well, the writing part sounds good.

I was about to ask what that meant as she bent down and kissed me. I’m just glad you’re okay, she said moments later as her lips brushed mine.

Why wouldn’t I be? I noticed a flicker of… something in her eyes. I brushed some of her soft hair behind her ear, trying to see better, but the heavy waves made it fall forward again.

Watched the news, she said. Someone was killed again last night. Burned alive. Right here in Charton this time.

Oh…

Yeah. Not far from here either.

Huh…

Evy straightened up. Oh for crying out loud, Ben. Did you see it?

What? No. I waved that notion off. Cab, remember?

I must not have been very convincing because her eyes narrowed in obvious doubt. I wasn’t half-bad at lying at this point, but I was far from apt at navigating every little cue and pitfall that entailed.

Fine. I gave in. But I didn’t see it, really. I saw what was left.

Evy pressed her lips together to stop herself from saying something or other and then placed her hand on my chest like she was subconsciously checking for a heartbeat. I had one or more of those though.

What if the murderer had seen you?

I shrugged. It was more likely he’d seen the screaming woman and he hadn’t attacked her. I can hide myself, you know?

Evy nodded. She knew that. Was one of a handful of people who did know about my abilities. One of three who knew the whole truth. Overlooking her aberration of a boss, Ward Winter, she and my friend Olivia were the only ones to whom I’d ever spoken the whole truth. And they had accepted that, which was why I trusted them. Even despite Evy working against me at times.

I know. But that doesn’t make you neither invisible nor invincible.

I was perfectly safe.

Evy didn’t look wholly convinced, but she let it lie. I’m glad you are. She eyed me a moment, her eyes void of what she was thinking. She’d become better and better at that after starting her job at WGI – Winter Global Industries – but I could remember the steely resolve on her face the first time I saw her. She’d been running for her life then, escaping the ruthless people that had abducted her to use her ability for their own avaricious gains.

Anyway, Evy slid her hand up my chest and let it rest on my cheek. I have to get dressed for work. I left some breakfast for you in the kitchen.

Thanks, I—

Have you… you know… checked your email lately?

The change in the conversation happened so fast it took me more than a moment to utter the ever so eloquent what? Evy raised her eyebrows a fraction as my brain caught up. No. Why? Why on Earth would I? I’d become passable at using the phone for calling and texting. That seemed enough. The people I wanted to be in contact with could reach me just fine. And then I didn’t have to learn anything new. At least not anything that involved buttons and tabs and stupid glaring screens that confused me with their incessant messages. Perfect.

Maybe you should.

I narrowed my eyes in confusion and felt her hand move up as her fingers stroked through my hair. Why? The last time I checked, because Peter wouldn’t stop nagging, mind you, there were merely a lot of emails from people I don’t know—

Readers.

—and reminders from Ed Sear—

Business.

I was about to say more and then stopped. Yes. That was business. I had in a distracted moment promised Ed Sear, the editor of Current Magazine, the rights to publish Ben’s next book. Of course, with Ben being dead, and me occupying his body, that wasn’t going to happen. Ed had sent some texts as well, and I’d brushed him off, stating I was busy with something or other. Was that what this was about?

How do you know that? I sat up a little, my face level with hers now. "Have you been surveilling every part of my life?" Hacking into my email and phone would surely count as a crime. Even I knew that. And I also knew that since I wanted Ward Winter dead, I was being watched by his people. Including Evy to some extent. How did I know? Because she was the reason I had gotten no further with my plan of finding help from people with some very useful abilities. I had met setbacks when it came to my mission in ending the seemingly endless cycle of Winter. The man didn’t refuse to die as much as he refused to stay dead. He always came back. That was not supposed to happen. I had no clue how he did it either, but I knew in my gut that I had to stop it. It was not only an insult to me and the way of things in this existence – it was a disturbance. The only problem was… I couldn’t kill him myself without risking consequences that were… aberrations in themselves. It appeared that my interfering with the living – as in taking a life – caused someone else to wake up and vice versa. The mere thought of the inhuman screams of the woman this had happened to because of me made me shudder. No, it seemed I had to find a way around that to stop Winter.

And I had thought that acquiring the help of people with certain otherworldly abilities might be the solution. Unfortunately, Evy, such a person herself, worked for Winter in helping some of them when they ran into so much trouble they couldn’t help themselves. That meant she knew the important players in the city… and lo and behold, none of them were talking to me.

I’d learned a few of their names during the debacle with Curtis Hill. He and his father had been targeted by both a few rogue police detectives as well as a large foreign company called Yorov which collected people with extra special abilities like they were dolls.

A few people with quite useful abilities to stop a man who appeared unreachable had been revealed to me then. A man named Silby and his guards or whatever they were. And now, they seemed to have vanished from the face of the earth. They were good at hiding. Of course they were. Hardly anyone knew these people existed. Silby, of course, went to work in his factory, but it had become impossible to meet him there.

Although Evy had never admitted to anything, it didn’t take a genius to figure out why such people were impossible to reach, even with the stupid phone. Winter extended a hand to help some of them. Not talking to me was a favor returned.

Of course we don’t hack your email, Evy said when I asked, trying to avoid a smile by pressing her lips together. She didn’t quite succeed.

Oh yes, I knew she worked against me. I couldn’t quite blame her. I had refused to let it affect our relationship because I trusted she wasn’t out to harm me. But she was adamant that her boss should not die. It was hard trying to explain he already had.

I may not be an expert at this but I don’t think normal couples have these kinds of discussions. Of course, we weren’t normal in any sense with me being me, and Evy being Evy. Still, the last few weeks had been good. We’d been doing the whole dating thing – as normal as could be – and grown closer. I enjoyed spending time with her, genuinely wanted to get to know her, felt all kinds of weird fluttery feelings inside at the sight of her. It didn’t take a psychic to tell me that she was very different to me from the other people in my life. I met her soft gaze. Very different indeed.

That’s true, she agreed after a moment. But most women don’t have boyfriends that are trying to murder their boss.

"I think murder is a little harsh."

So what if he’s lived a little longer than most—

A little?

You’re technically not supposed to exist either, but I’m glad you do. She leaned in and kissed me again before I could say anything. I’m in your corner, Ben, she added a moment later, but I will not help you with this.

I glanced sideways in a confused moment. Why would you be in the corner?

Evy burst out laughing but quickly got herself under control. I’m not on your side in this, she clarified after clearing her throat. But other than that, I’ve got your back.

Ah.

Exactly. Winter saved my life. I’m protected now. Safe. That matters to me. I hope it does to you as well.

She could no doubt see the hesitation in my eyes. Because I did know that, and it did matter.

Damn it.

Stupid philanthropists doing good deeds when you were out to end them.

Evy shrugged and got off the bed. So no, there is no hacking of your emails, she announced over her shoulder as she left the bedroom. But Peter mentioned something about it… uh, overflowing a bit.

I sighed and sank down on the bed again before reaching out and grabbing the coffee. It tasted so good – still scalding hot and the perfect blend of bitter and earthy. I’d managed to down a quarter of it by the time Evy came back, her arms full of books – Old Ben’s books as it turned out a moment later when she dumped them in my lap, almost making me spill coffee on the sheets.

Oh yes.

All eight of them.

Upbeat titles and all.

I stared.

Then I angled my head and stared up at Evy.

Maybe you should, you know… at least look at them?

Whatever for?

To spend your time avoiding murderous pyromaniacs?

I opened my mouth to say something and then realized there really was only one accepted answer to that last one.

Evy smiled as she stood next to the bed and watched me. You see? Jobs would be something couples normally discuss.

Chapter 3

Winter stared ahead at the man seated across his desk and tried very hard not to furrow his brows in confusion. Vampire mermaids? It was funny the things that came through his office sometimes. He’d seen more than enough of odd things, strange even. Many awful ones as well. He’d seen people kill each other for scraps, betray each other for fear. He’d seen crowds marching for justice, for the mere right to some bread. He’d seen the last man to be guillotined, hell, he’d seen one of the first men to be guillotined. Wars, disease, hunger… the list went on.

Vampire mermaids were a first though. Especially ones that could shed their skin like a snake and walk on land. Not that he was facing one. No – that would be ridiculous. Winter fought hard to hide the wry smile that threatened to appear. It didn’t do to let people think you were insulting them. Not unless you were, in fact, doing so.

Um… are you all right? Peter Klein asked. He sat relaxed in the chair but his slight taps on the closed laptop that stood upright on his lap told a different story. He was nervous. No wonder. Part of his future depended on this meeting. He was a dark-haired twenty-five-year-old with a full, trimmed beard and a couple of pounds extra around the waist. As a college drop-out, he’d done well for himself, working with what he loved. His residence was in Curtain Fields, but he was now searching for a place with his girlfriend, who had turned out to be one of the receptionists downstairs. Oh yes, Winter knew all that and more. They’d vetted him the moment he’d pitched his idea to Impacht, a subsidiary company of WGI. Actually, he’d been investigated the moment it had been clear who his friend was by Winter’s security as well. As it turned out now, Peter wanted to branch out. It was getting serious with the girlfriend then. Still, that was not why he was sitting in Winter’s office. There were a few reasons for that, but for the most part not what the young programmer thought.

Yes, of course, Winter said in response to the man’s question. Vampire mermaids.

"Um… mermen, but yeah."

"Mermen. Of course. Continue, please."

Peter was about to, but he stopped in the middle of an inhale and tipped his head sideways a fraction. Listen, Mr. Winter. I’m serious about this, but I guess that most developers don’t deal with you in person. Especially about programming.

You don’t think I understand your code?

Peter opened his mouth and then considered before he spoke. Clever man. I wouldn’t know. But Mr. Botros seemed interested and I thought he was in charge of Impacht. This can be an awesome game, with a specific purpose, but…

Winter allowed a faint smile and raised his eyebrows. But?

Peter sighed. He’d spoken his mind once before, been pretty frank and justified in his anger at a time when Winter had been too preoccupied to notice someone in need of help. That someone was Evy, who now worked for him. If not for Peter, she might not be alive.

Listen, if I’m here because of this weird vendetta between you and Ben then it might be just as well that I throw in the towel on this one.

Winter couldn’t help his eyes narrowing at that name. That vendetta, as Peter called it, was very one-sided. Winter forced himself not to react… at least visibly.

Because I don’t know anything—

Winter held up a hand to silence him and it worked like a charm. There are two reasons you are here, Mr. Klein—

Peter.

—Peter. First, what you did for Evy. Second, I have some concerns about your game.

Um… well sure… and what?

Let’s put your excellent grasp on programming aside. Yes, Winter had talked to Aza Botros and there was a reason the man was excited. You see, Mr. Botros doesn’t know about this other hidden world you show in your proposed game.

Well…

Vampiric mermaids aside, a lot of the elements of this game are, shall we say, real?

Peter shifted in his chair, hands on his laptop at all times. Yeah, sure. Like psychics and telekinesis and stuff like that.

Winter picked up a piece of paper on his desk and skimmed through the descriptions. A character that inflicts pain on the deserving upon touch? Like an avenging angel. He put the paper down again and gave the younger man a pointed look. Sound like someone you know?

Well… Peter’s initially confused look told Winter he hadn’t done this consciously. Yes, this character had some similarities to Evy’s ability. She could, after all,