Separate Ways
by Nate Nason
Renha
As they stepped onto the train, she fought every urge to jump on after them. But Marius just grinned at her, “No, dear sister, don’t even try.”
“How can you grin like that?” she demanded, “You’re dead.” He just shrugged. As far as Renha could tell, it hadn’t sunk in for him yet, but she couldn’t seem to drag her eyes away from the big sign that read ‘Train to Hades departing in 1 minute.’ Then she said, “I should be allowed to go with you. I’m dead too, brother.” He kept on grinning, which only made her want to hit him. But that wouldn’t be proper, so she just stood there, smoothed her skirts, and pouted.
“You’re only technically dead, love. Just be patient. And then go and live your life for me, once they’ve brought you back.” She knew she should say something profound, but her mind was blank. Marius was dead and he was leaving her. Not his fault, true, but it hurt all the same. Finally, the train started to pull out, and he said, “Goodbye, enjoy your life for me.”
And then he was gone. She hadn’t even gotten to say anything. And then she was trying to blink away the bright, white, surgery room lights. The head wizard was off in the corner, and when he opened his wrinkle wrought eyelids, he smiled warmly. “You didn’t save my brother,” she said, accusatory. The healer’s smiled slipped a little.
“No, I could not. But you live, now. You live for him.” And then he left the room and left her alone.
Marius
Well, I can’t say I’m upset about this, he thought to himself. Life had not been going so well, just yesterday. Maybe that car accident had been a blessing. I was worried I’d be headed to hell, but Hades seems to be pretty neutral. When he’d continued into the train after its abrupt departure, one of the crew members had given him a pamphlet. ‘You’re dead, here’s what you need to know:’ he read. Apparently, heaven and hell didn’t exist. Apparently, this was it. ‘You get a second chance!’ it read ‘Cherish it, because you don’t get a third.’
Interesting, he thought. So, when I die in this world, I die for real. A second chance. He liked the idea. But he was curious how this world functioned. Was it the same? Could people die here? What were the rules? He was curious where the line was, especially compared to the land of the living. While he read through each line of the pamphlet, he tried to ignore the insistent nagging voice that seemed to have taken up permanent residence in his mind. Why did you do it? it asked. You’re lucky, it told him. You should have told Renha, it said. He ignored it. Or he tried to.
Overhead, an inhuman, gravelly voice announced that they would be arriving at the station soon. He wondered what that would mean. The pamphlet had nothing to say about it. He hoped it was more exciting than Earth had been. Or topside, as the brochure called it. He settled in to wait.
Renha
Renha watched her students as they filed out of the classroom. Little Rylie was the last to leave, she said, “Bye Miss Baron!” And ran over to give her a hug before she left. Renha smiled and knelt down to hug her back.
In Rylie’s ear she whispered, “Your essay was my favorite.” The girl beamed, and ran off to join the other kids as they stampeded toward the buses. Renha was ready to get home, but she stopped to take her pills before she left, already, she was hurting again. She spilled the contents of a prescription opioid bottle and an antibiotic into her palm, and washed the acrid tasting capsules down with a bottle of warm water.
When she got to the parking lot, she noticed a man leaning on her car. She gripped a self-defense potion in her purse, but approached, warily. She forced herself to smile, “Good afternoon sir. How are you this day?”
“Right fine miss. Right fine. I thought you were dead? Went with your brother, so I heard.” Her eyes widened at the bluntness of his words.
“No, sir. My brother went on to be with God. He left me here,” She responded politely. She couldn’t talk about Hades. It seemed to be some magical restriction, but she wouldn’t have told the stranger a thing either way.
He snickered. “Marius, miss, I can assure you, is not with God.” Renha narrowed her eyes and pursed her lipstick-red lips. Surely he doesn’t know about Hades, she thought, but then the man continued, “If he went anywhere at all, he went the other direction. Speaking of which, miss, Marius owed a little money. That means now you owe a little money.”
“Marius would never. And even if he fu—” Even as he cut her off, she drew her hand out of the bag and made to throw her spell-bottle at him. She didn’t like the way he was talking, or the way he was making her talk.
“Whoah, whoah, whoah, miss.” He said, cutting her off. “Ain’t nothin’ to it. All’s you gotta do is a little bit of work for us, and then you’re done. Nothing special, nothing demeanin’, just a little work. Your brother did plenty o’ the same thing, and he did it without being even bein’ asked.” He slowly reached in his pocket and took out a note, handed it to her, then strolled off, hands in pockets.
Renha kept the potion in her hand and watched the man until he turned the corner, then she fumbled to open her car, and collapsed in the seat. Why didn’t he tell me about this? What have you gotten me into, Marius?
Marius
Marius meandered through the strange streets of this strange city. Every alleyway was lit by firelight, but there were no torches, there was no source of light. There were skeletons, animals, insects, monsters, and people that clacked, prowled, crawled, and walked through the cobbled streets. This place was strange to Marius, but the strangest part was the lack of gravity. The city floated in sections. Just then, he wandered the entertainment section, in the center of the islands, on both axes. It had bars, and bars meant drunk people, stupid people. Hopefully he could join them soon.
The attendants at the train station had given the newlydeads their monthly allowance. Apparently, everyone got one, but the newlydeads got a bigger one for their first month, and they were expected to find jobs soon. Much to Marius’ chagrin, Hades’ citizens knew that, and they had awaited their exit of the station, and jumped him.
One might think, Marius thought to himself, that a universal monthly allowance would prevent theft. But that was clearly not the case. Where there were men, it seemed, there was crime. His body was more hardy in this realm, but it still needed food. He couldn’t wait a whole month.
So, Marius had fallen into old habits. Go broke, lurk in the shadows, hope some easy pickings came across. It was a vicious cycle, one he’d been part of his whole life, one he’d kept his perfect sister from. And now he was thrown into it in death too. He wasn’t proud of it. Hopefully, he wouldn’t remember what happened. Hopefully, he would just wake up hungover and happy he had a wallet full of money.
He refused to think about what he’d done topside. It was over now. It didn’t matter.
It didn’t matter. That’s what he told himself.
Renha
Renha couldn’t bare to look at the photos in the envelope again. She knew what was there, and she would forget it if she could. She couldn’t believe had voted for that man.
She sat in her car outside an almost-mansion, waiting until 3:30am when a guard would come and let her in. It was all outlined in the note that bastard had given her. She wasn’t sure why the guard couldn’t just do it.
A few minutes later, she walked into the new police commissioner’s bedroom, where he slept alone for the night, and slapped him on the face with that envelope.
It, surprisingly, took a few slaps until he woke up. And even more until he realized what was happening, when he saw that he had no idea who the woman slapping him with a manila envelope was, he made to yell. Renha stopped him with a seductive finger to her lips and a smoky look, then slowly took off her jacket. When he calmed, she threw the envelope at him.
“Open it. Look at them. Read the note. If you make a sound I’ll send a text on my phone and you won’t like who it’s to.” He did as he was told with rage plastered on his face. Men this powerful didn’t like being threatened, teased, or bossed around. She had to admit she felt the opposite. As he scanned, his eyes got wider and wider. She hadn’t read the note, her instructions had explicitly said not to. That being said, she certainly did not trust her administrators, especially given that she had no idea who they were. After a moment he put the note down and pulled his laptop over, typing something.
When he finished, he looked up at her, eerily silent. He was calm now, for some reason. “One more thing,” she said with a disgusted look. “Go open your safe and give me the money in it. And if anything ever comes out about my face or me or my employers, I’ll send that text.” The rage returned to his face and he opened his mouth to speak, but she interrupted him. “And if you think those pictures are all we have, then you’re sadly mistaken.” Then she smiled at him, and when he didn’t move, she arched a brow. He got up slowly, as if it physically hurt him to do what she was asking.
A few minutes later, the guard was escorting her back out to her car, and she was driving home $150,000 richer. He’s an awful person. It doesn’t matter, she thought. That money seemed to make what she’d done a whole lot more bearable. She almost didn’t even regret it.
Marius
Marius stumbled past an alleyway, feigning drunkenness, but he was in fact prospecting. Then he heard a scream, and it had come from that alleyway, apparently far enough back that his cursory glance hadn’t shown the crime being committed. He righted himself, then rushed in.
What he found was most certainly not surprising, but he couldn’t say it made him proud of his species. An abnormally big man had a woman against the wall, on hand on her throat, and one reaching down lower. The skimpily dressed woman’s eyes flicked to him, but then back to her attacker. Marius grabbed a loose stone from the cobbled street, and smashed it against the attacker’s head, hard. He dropped without a sound. After he fell, Marius got a much better view of the woman. Godsdamn.
He must have had a look, a hungry look, because the woman cut off her thanks with her own look of extreme fear. Marius took a step toward her, then she screamed again, and he realized what he was doing. “Give—” No. He backed off and let her run out.
Gods what am I doing? What am I? Marius looked at the slumped heap on the ground. I should take his money, he deserves it. But Marius deserved it too, probably. So he didn’t. Marius turned around and walked out the same way the woman had left.
Maybe it did matter.