The Upside of Death

Keera finds a new friend. Part 16

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Thirty minutes passed after Semyon left before Keera regained a measure of calm and surveyed her surroundings. Another bedroom, this one more luxurious. A king-size bed dominated it; mahogany doors indicated a closet behind them. A huge window overlooked a few yards of lawn, past that, scrubby bushes dotted the desert. More mountains guarded the way west. No other house in sight. She inspected the window. Sealed shut. The closet and dressers contained men's clothes. Mostly casual wear.

Who had been here before? Not other hostages, the clothes suggested a regular occupant. The bathroom was stocked with white towels, and a white terrycloth bathrobe hung from a hook. She ached for a shower but didn't dare take one. Being naked anytime in front of Semyon would be interpreted as a distinct invitation for rough sex.

She slipped off her jacket and, leaning over the basin, washed herself as best she could without removing her dress. Fresh clothes would rejuvenate her but they were as elusive as freedom. She replaced her jacket and sat on the bed. Eyes closed and hands unclasped on her lap, she breathed deeply, and was grateful when, even in this stressed environment, she slipped into a trance. She waited for something, anything to happen.

Don't look for specifics, Bardo had trained her. Allow yourself to see what others wish to show you.

Nothing came. Nobody wanted to show her a thing. Or couldn't.

"Damn that shit they gave me," she said.

A gunshot made her jump. A second one froze her heart. She kept her eyes on the door. What's happening? she asked. No answer from Bardo. Not Zach, please say it's not Zach. She tried to stop her raging thoughts from crashing into one another. Calmed herself long enough to see the obvious. It couldn't be Zach, he couldn't have followed her so fast, even if he found her message right away. Her heart unfroze a little.

She waited for more shots. None came. After ten minutes she sat back on the bed and waited for footsteps. Something had gone wrong. Would they move her again?

A man standing next to her.

She scrambled to her feet and backed away from him.

"You see me, right?" he said.

She could see some of him. Head, shoulders and his right arm. The rest of him wasn't there. Just a gap between the visible parts and the floor.

"Do you see me or not?" he barked.

He showed no fear, his manner forthright, as if he was used to asking questions and getting answers. He generated a startling magnetism, an unexpected tug that she detected immediately and just as quickly resisted. He wore a dark tailored suit; his stance suggesting that his visible arm might be folded over the other invisible one.

"I see you," she said. The newly dead, in her experience, were more cautious, more confused about their new state. This one was different.

"Well, they can't. So what happens now?"

He was referring to the Russians, she guessed. "You go to the light."

"I don't see no goddamn light. I can't believe those apes shot me. They screwed everything up; they're dumber than dirt. I smacked the hairy one in the face after the little one killed me but he didn't notice."

"He's not aware of you. You can't touch him now."

The dead man held his right hand out, palm down, and looked at it while he flexed his fingers. "It feels normal but I can see through it."