Come Alive

By H.K. Searls, Erin Hylands, Bethany Snow and 8 more

17 stories that show the dawn in the darkness.

A grim future where death can happen more than once. An epic battle between darkness and light. A time long ago when death seemed to win. A dream of flying. Enter these worlds and more in this collection of short stories by eleven young authors. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lantern Bearers Publishing
• Release date: Oct 1, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223498025

Book preview

Deathbringer

By H.K. Searls

She who has died six times will be the Deathbringer.

- The Prophet, circa 2090

WHEN I DIED THE SIXTH time, I knew my fate was sealed. The next morning, I awoke with the predictable pounding headache in a room I didn’t recognize. The wide, soft bed was far different from my ascetic gladiator cell, and my wounds were softly bandaged in fine linen.

The Priest was already waiting in the antechamber. A maidservant I didn’t know scurried into my room, helping me out of bed and hurriedly garbing me in a black: a sleeveless shirt, trousers, and a hooded cloak. I exited the bedchamber and followed the Priest out of the antechamber and into a wide courtyard, black and red tiles impeccably shining. 

All hail the Deathbringer! the Priest cried, handing me the ceremonial scythe.

I saluted in the old gladiatorial style, two fingers pressed to my lips, then held aloft.

The crowd hushed, and dropped to one knee. They would cheer me no more. No longer was I Kyrie, Elysium Arena gladiator. Now, I was the Deathbringer.

Whenever I walked down the street, children scattered or were gathered to their mothers like chicks before a fox. No one looked at me. They hurried by with downcast faces, afraid.

Soon, I stopped going out.

The call came when most did—between midnight and three. The hologram of the soon-to-be deceased individual wavered above my desk screen. A little girl, seven years old. I hated it when it was a kid. Quickly scanning the vital information (Name: Jaira Matins, Age: 7, Cause of impending death: Fever, Address: 12 Nazar), I packed my satchel with the tools of the Deathbringer (scanner, knife, recorder), pulled my black cowl over my face, and stepped out into the night.

The streets were—unsurprisingly—empty. The coolness of the cobblestones was nearly imperceptible, thanks to my thick soled boots purchased with the grudging compensation provided by the people for the services of the Deathbringer.

I looked at the house at 12 Nazar—if one could call it a house. The roof was swaybacked, and the door had seen better decades. I didn't pause to knock. Letting myself in, my tech-enhanced vision instantly adjusted to the gloom, even darker than the moonlit streets outside.

A woman held a little girl I recognized from the hologram as Jaira. She shivered as I approached, but she merely set the girl on a thin mat and stepped back to allow me to work.

I knelt next to Jaira and focused on her fever-flushed face. Reaching out a hand, I couldn't help but feel for her pulse. It was still there, but faint. With a home like this, I surmised Jaira had only the most basic of tech.

Just the chip, the woman whispered, confirming my suspicions. Often it took much of a family’s savings to afford the required chip that regulated life and death.

My hand reached out to Jaira's arm as it had done to countless others—both in the Elysium Arena and as Deathbringer.  Gently, I brought my knife to her skin and made a tiny incision, just big enough to extract the chip preventing her from dying. Palming the chip, I slipped it into my satchel as Jaira relaxed one last time. In the corner, the woman wept silently, her shallow breathing the only disturbance to the hallowed quiet.

What is this? A new voice cut into the sacred silence. I turned, staring at the stranger who had just barged in. His blond hair was longer than most, coming almost to his collar, and his dark eyes dared to sparkle. Without waiting for my answer, he continued, My name's Elieson. Otherwise known as the Lifegiver.

I stared. The Lifegiver? But that was impossible. There hadn't been a Lifegiver in centuries, not since the new chips began malfunctioning. A Deathbringer must die six times like I had. But a Lifegiver must die seven times.

Elieson looked at Jaira. Excuse me, he said, moving past me. Startled, I stepped aside. As I'm sure you know, Elieson continued, the Lifegiver has the right to reclaim those touched by the Deathbringer.

I dug Jaira's chip from my bag and offered it to Elieson.

Oh, no, I don't need that, Elieson stated. He closed his hand around the incision on Jaira's arm. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply. I claim you, Jaira Matins.

Jaira gasped, and Elieson helped her sit up. The woman in the corner ran to Jaira, taking her in her arms.

Elieson stood. Come, he said, beckoning to me. Throwing back the hood of my cloak in a sudden defiance of the Deathbringer’s customs, I followed Elieson out the door.

If One Could Touch the Stars

BY M.G. AFTERTHOUGHT

When I grow up, I wanna touch the stars.

Why? Sam turned to look at me while we lay on the flat roof, staring up at the breathtaking, Florida night sky. Stars covered every inch, dancing and sparkling, reflecting in my brother’s eyes.

I flashed him a grin. I think they’re pretty. I wanna see what they feel like, and if they can sing.

Sam reached over and tossed my mess of curly, black hair. I shrieked in delight.

Don’t wait ‘till you’re grown up, Molly; you can see them now.

"Really? How?"

Sam laughed, but it was quieter than it used to be, and he ended up breaking into a fit of coughs. A frown darkened my expression as I reached out to touch his arm. He’d been a lot lately.

Are you ok-

I’m fine, Sam interrupted, and he steered the conversation away before I could ask anymore questions. But if you wanna know how to get to the stars, he paused, flashing a sly grin. I can tell you.

I burst into a fit of excited pleas and nestled up next to him. He was warm, and I liked that, even on that summer night.

Calm down, He chuckled, wrapping his arm around my small body. I’ll tell, but you just gotta promise me one thing.

What? I asked, my heart racing in excitement as I grinned up at him.

Sam smiled gently in return, and if I had been older, I might’ve noticed the sadness in his eyes. I was five, he was thirteen, but whatever he knew that I didn’t make him look years and years older than he was supposed to be.

He leaned in close and whispered in my ear.

Promise you’ll take me with you, Molly?

‘Course I will!

But I didn’t know what I was promising at the time.

One day I woke up and Sam was gone. Gone. I didn’t know where my brother went, and no matter how hard I searched the house, I couldn’t find him. My parents tried to explain what was going on, but all I could understand was that it was huge and important. They used too many big words that I didn’t know, and the only ones I recognized were sick, and hospital.

I didn’t understand. Sam was supposed to guide me to the stars, but how could he when he had left me behind?

Days bled into months as I sat at the front window, watching, waiting for Sam to come back. I even started to think that I’d rather just have him again, even if that meant we wouldn’t visit the stars. But I never saw him come running up the driveway like he used to, and tell me about some new adventure he’d had.

Or dream out loud with each other about all the ones we’d go on.

One day, I’d had enough. I didn’t really know what I was doing, but nonsense had a certain way of making a great deal of sense when I was younger.

It was sprinkling rain outside that evening, and my mother said that it would only get worse, but I didn’t care.

Tonight, I was going to touch the stars. I’d do it for Sam, if I couldn’t bring him with me.

I pulled on a rain jacket and boots and ventured outside. The constant, muted drum of raindrops all around me was comforting, but lonely. I spent many hours earlier that day dreaming of how Sam was planning on taking me to the sky, and had finally realized what he must’ve meant. He must’ve wanted to jump.

I clumsily climbed onto our trampoline, slipping and sliding through all that drizzle.

Grim determination setting my jaw; I believed that I could jump high enough to touch the stars, and then I would find Sam and tell him all about it. How they felt, how they stayed suspended in the sky, and if they sang.

Bracing myself, I took a deep breath...and leapt.

I didn’t go very high the first time, but when I fell back down and jumped again, it felt like the momentum carried me a mile at the least. I reached up toward a tear in the heavy clouds overhead where I could see a few twinkling lights peeking through.

They were waiting for me, I knew it. I just had to jump higher, so I tried a final time.

I leapt as high as I could, stretching, begging, wishing for the feeling of a star beneath my fingertips. But all I felt was the cold, hard rain.

As gravity tugged me earthbound, I watched in horror as the patch in the sky was sewn up, and the stars were swallowed by the worsening storm. I hit the trampoline hard, and my rain boots were jerked out from under me. Slamming against the rough fabric, I bit my tongue.

The momentum knocked me to the side and off the trampoline. The ground hit hard enough to stun me silent. The only thing I could do was stare blankly up at the gray sky, wondering where my stars had gone.

A sob suddenly burst from my chest, and that was the last straw. My tiny fists clenched handfuls of wet grass, tearing them up as I cried. It wasn’t fair; it wasn’t right! Sam and my stars were gone, and I hated it.

I got up and bolted for the oak tree that stood in the back of our yard, the one where Sam and I had built a ricky treehouse in its branches.

I was inside it in an instant, safe from the storm and the fear and the hurt from outside. All alone I sat, curled up in the far corner, crying and crying and crying my eyes out.

If only Sam were here, he’d know what to do. He’d know how to comfort me and tell me what I was doing wrong. If only the stars would come back from wherever they had gone. Would I ever get them back? It felt like I wouldn’t, not with the storm raging on outside.

Maybe . . . one couldn’t touch the stars after all. Maybe it was just impossible.

I buried my head in my hands; I didn’t know what this sickening feeling was, but it was sad and bitter. It was disappointment, I later realized, but how was I supposed to know that? Sam had never let me down before, not until now, and now I wasn’t sure what to do.

I don’t know how long I sat there, sobbing from all the pain, loneliness, and disappointment not just tonight, but from the moment I realized Sam was gone.

At some point, the rain’s drumbeat had slowed, then stopped altogether, but I didn’t get up. Not even when sudden and mysterious watery light flashed across one of the windows, as if to check to see if I was still there.

I didn’t care, I didn’t want it; I just wanted my star back again.

Then, as the creak of the rope ladder broke the silence, I realized that the glow belonged to a flashlight. Somebody was coming to get me.

But before I could think of anything else, somebody poked their head through the hatch, and crawled in, the warm light illuminating the soft smile I was starting to think I’d never see again.

It was Sam.

Hullo, Molly, he softly called, crouching at the trap door, studying me carefully.

I didn’t know what to think, my mind was blank in shock. Sam looked different, a little thinner, lengthier, and his brown skin a bit paler but . . . he was still Sam.

My Sam.

I lunged forwards, flinging myself around his neck and knocking him backward. I didn’t know exactly how much I was really missing him until I found myself breaking down, weeping into his shoulder and he hugged me back.

Where’d you go? I gasped.

Sam held me tighter.

I . . . I went on a little trip. he replied, his voice barely above a whisper.

Nu-uh! Mama and Daddy said you were sick!

Sam was quiet for a while, so long that I had the time to pull myself together and sit back, staring at him, unable to believe that he was really, truly mine again.

I had never been so happy before in my life, and the bitter disappointment of the stars disappearing was nothing but a shadow in comparison to Sam’s light.

Sam, I began guiltily, not really caring what had happened to him, only that he was back. I tried to reach the sky...but I fell.

Is that why you’re so muddy? he asked, tilting his head to the side as a ghost of a smile lit up his face.

I nodded miserably as he laughed. But this time, it was loud and strong, like it had been way before. I liked it.

He held out a hand to me, Come on, Molly, let’s go inside. It’s past your bedtime.

I shook my head. I didn’t want to go to sleep, afraid that if I woke up, this might all be just a dream.

I’ll tell you a story if you do, Sam gently offered, then paused before adding. "And I’ll finally show you how to touch the stars."

I looked at his hand, the hand I had held so many times before, then back at him.

Only if I get to take you with me, Sam.

My brother’s expression lit up as he smiled.

I wouldn’t dream of it any other way.

He didn’t have to tell me twice. I grabbed his hand and he swept me up, carrying both me and the flashlight down the ladder and into the dark, wet world below. One glance up at the sky and I saw that the stars were back as well, thousands of them spread above like a handful of silver glitter thrown onto a black canvas.

There were puddles of water everywhere in our yard, and as we tramped through the grass, I did everything I could to jump in each one we came across, holding tightly to Sam’s hand all the way.

You see, Molly, Sam began thoughtfully after a while, swinging the flashlight in one fist, and my hand in the other. "I was sick, and one night a star actually came to our house and took me away. It had a giant carriage, and once I climbed inside, it took me up into the sky."

I turned to look at him, an eyebrow raised. You’re lying, I said slowly, unsure.

It all happened, I can assure you. Sam answered, dead serious. He turned his face up to the stars above as he continued. "They kept me in a huge palace and gave me moonlight to drink, and after a while, they brought me back. And they gave me a special message for a certain someone."

Who?

Well, I think I might have forgotten, Sam said, but the corner of his mouth was curling into a smile and I knew he was lying.

You know who it is! I cried, stopping in the middle of the yard to stomp my foot in a large rain puddle, and it splashed everywhere. "Who?"

My brother laughed, shaking his head as he answered.

The stars told me to tell you that they like how brave you are.

I frowned in confusion.

But I’m not brave. I haven’t done anything brave.

Sam reached down and tossed my hair in that familiar way. Oh, how I’d missed that.

Sure you are, Molly. He squeezed my hand. Would you like to touch the stars now?

Now that I had Sam back, I felt like I could do anything.