Death Makes Me Stronger, page 5
“That’s not possible, Rave,” he said and then turned back to me as I walked back over.
“Thanks for the clothes,” I said as I handed him back the boxers. “I really appreciate it. I’m not going to wear the boxers, though.”
“I get it,” he said and stuffed them into the pocket of his lab coat. “Were you really dead?”
“That’s what I hear,” I chuckled and ran a hand over the back of my neck. “I woke up in one of the drawers. The last thing that I remember was a manhole cover coming at my face. Apparently, Raven did a full autopsy on me, but I guess death didn’t stick.”
“I guess not,” Paul said as he walked around me. “Wait, you said that a manhole cover hit you in the face? I know that one. Rave is right, I have your clothes in evidence right now. Along with the manhole cover. But the pictures in your file showed a very smashed face. And you didn’t have the y-incision.”
“They healed,” the assistant medical examiner clapped her hands and looked like she might smile again. “It’s insane. He doesn’t remember meeting the gods of the dead, but that might come in time. He was only dead for twenty hours, after all. The truly fascinating part is that his skin is now impenetrable. It broke six different needles, and my favorite scalpel. That’s what the crowbar and baseball bat are for.”
“That’s the fascinating part?” I asked and glanced at Paul. “Not the fact that I came back from the dead?”
“Well, of course that’s amazing,” Raven said and then started to study the crowbar. “I’d like to hit you in the ribcage with this.”
Paul and I shared a look and then stared at the petite woman. The steel crowbar was a lot sturdier than the tips of needles and the edge of a scalpel, but Raven didn’t look strong enough to do much damage. Sure, it would hurt, but if we really wanted to test how much my body could take, then the beefy scientist would be our best bet, and he seemed to agree with me.
“Rave,” Paul said and gently tugged the crowbar away. “I think I’ll take care of that. Why don’t you go take your notes? I’m assuming that you’re writing all of this down.”
“Of course,” the black-haired woman rolled her eyes and then went to retrieve the notebook covered in cat stickers. “What kind of scientist would I be if I didn’t take notes? By the way, Paul, this is to be kept a complete secret. John would like to enlist as a superhero, and of course, that means his secret identity must be kept hidden.”
“A superhero?” the beefy man asked and motioned for me to lift my arms. “That would be cool. Especially if you’re invincible. Don’t worry… your secret’s safe with me. Rave introduced me to my wife, so I owe her my life, and also Briar would literally murder me if I betrayed her best friend.”
“Thanks,” I said and lifted my hands into the air. “I’m not sure if I’m invincible yet, but that’s what the tests are for, right?”
Nervous energy coursed through my veins as Paul stood in front of me and wielded the crowbar like it was a bat. The hooked end was facing me, so it would pierce into my ribcage if we were wrong, and suddenly letting the beefy scientist take a swing at me seemed like an idiotic idea. The forensic tech met my eyes, and I took a deep breath, nodded, and then closed my eyes as the steel bar came at me.
The air rushed out of my lungs with the impact, and vibrations rang through me like I was a gong, but there was no pain. The crowbar hadn’t broken my ribs, and when I opened my eyes I saw that the steel bar hadn’t even left a bruise.
“No fucking way,” Paul and I said at the same time.
“Raven, please tell me that you were recording that,” Paul said as he stared at the crowbar.
“Of course I was,” she said and pointed to the phone on the desk.
“I didn’t feel a thing,” I said. “I mean… I felt the impact, but it didn’t hurt at all.”
Paul tossed the crowbar onto a nearby table and rushed to grab the wooden bat. The nervousness had officially evaporated, and I grinned as the beefy man lined up to take another swing. The bat came flying at my head, and it took all of my self-control not to try to block it with my arm, but I needed to make sure that my head was just as invincible as the rest of me.
I shut my eyes tightly right before the baseball bat collided with me, and the sound of cracking wood rang through the room. Something scraped across my eyelid, but no sticky blood dripped down, and there wasn’t any pain. I cautiously opened one eye and then the other to see that the bat had been completely shattered, and slivers of wood were scattered around the floor at my feet like confetti.
“Amazing,” I whispered.
“Does your family have a history of superpowers?” Paul asked as he went to grab a broom.
“No,” I shook my head. “None. Raven thinks that it’s a random gene mutation, but there’s no way to check it because she can’t draw my blood.”
“I have some in the lab,” the beefy scientist said. “It’s all over your clothes. I can extract it and run it through the system. Of course, if there is a gene mutation, then the government will be alerted right away.”
“That makes sense,” I said and brushed the wooden slivers off of my shoulder. “They’d want to keep track of supers. But I’d rather know than not, you know? The impenetrable skin is awesome, but there are plenty of other ways to die, and I have no idea if I’ll come back a second time.”
“You’ll need to make sure that the gene is in good condition,” Raven said as she stopped the recording. “If it looks like it’s weak, then it’s likely that John can only come back once.”
“I’ll put a rush on it,” Paul said and then clapped his hands together. “This is an awesome development. You should know that I’m going to tell Briar, but she’ll be the only one.”
“Spouses don’t count,” I laughed. “I don’t want to be the reason that you have to keep secrets from your wife.”
“You’re already a hero,” he said and patted me on the shoulder. “I should have the results of the test in about twelve hours. You’re lucky that my shift just started, because I’ll still be here when it’s ready.”
“I appreciate it,” I grinned and then looked around. “Actually, where is my phone? Can I get it back? I can give you my number so that you can call me. And I should probably call my parents to let them know that my death has been greatly exaggerated.”
“I’ll grab it from evidence,” he said. “You’ll have to sign for it, but since you’re not actually dead, then there’s no reason to keep your stuff. We’d only need it to prove to the insurance company that your death was an act of god.”
Paul rolled his eyes at the same time as I did, and then we both burst out laughing. It was no secret that Admiral Freedom thought of himself as a god, and I was glad that it didn’t irritate just me. The beefy scientist looked between Raven and me one more time, grinned, and then hurried off to the lab to grab my belongings.
“So,” I said and turned back to Raven. “I can’t be hurt from stabbings or blunt force. That knocks out a lot of ways to die.”
“It does,” the assistant medical examiner said. “But if you’re going to be a superhero, then you need to be prepared for a few other inevitabilities. We’ll wait for the results of the blood test to come back, and then we can try a couple of different deaths out. If you come back invulnerable to that same death each time, then you’ll be able to survive quite a bit.”
“I would be an act of god,” I said. “Though, I’m not sure that I’ll come back each time, or that I’ll be invulnerable to it.”
“That’s what the experiments are for,” the goth woman smirked.
Chapter 4
“Right,” I laughed and shook my head. “It’s good to know that I can take a baseball bat to the face. Not sure if I want to test being set on fire. Or drowned.”
“We’ll talk about that later,” Raven said and then strolled over to the computer. “I think that we’re done for the night. I have some paperwork that I need to finish before the end of my shift. They like to know when people come back to life. You may receive a visit from a government official in the next few days, especially if your bloodwork comes back with a mutated gene. You shouldn’t have to worry too much about them, but they will keep an eye on you.”
“If they have everyone logged into their computers, then how do they not know who the villains are?” I asked as Paul walked back into the morgue.
“Most of the villains don’t submit to get tested,” the forensic scientist said.
He handed me a large plastic bag with red tape at the top and a file number written next to my name. Some part of me expected everything to be covered in blood, but my backpack and shoes were black, so it was hard to tell. The seal was easy enough to break, and the fabric of my bag was already dry since it had been almost a full day.
“That makes sense,” I said. “There are some conspiracies that say that they let the villains out of jail just to keep down the other crimes.”
“Do not get Paul started on conspiracy theories,” Raven said from the desk. “The last thing that my charges need to hear is that their demise was caused by the willful neglect of their governing body.”
“We’ll talk about it later,” the beefy man whispered.
I grinned as he winked conspiratorially like an old man about to get into mischief. There was something about the big guy that reminded me of my grandfather and my brother, Stephen, all at the same time. It was like a nerd had been wrapped in muscle and then given seventy years worth of life experience.
“We will,” I agreed and fished my cell phone out of my bag. “Give me your phone number. I’ll text you, and then you can call me when you get the results in. Raven, I’ll need yours too.”
“Already wrote it down for you,” Paul said and handed me a slip of paper. “The extension number for my lab is on there, too. You do not want to end up with my supervisor, or worse, Karen. She won’t tell you anything, even if it is your DNA being run. Speaking of which, I should get back to it. Talk to you later. And congrats on coming back from the dead.”
“Thanks.” I shook my head and inputted the numbers.
The door swung shut behind Paul, and I turned to see Raven was still engrossed in her work. The goth woman’s long braided ponytails hung almost all the way down her back, and I wondered just how long it was when she let it down. There was something otherworldly about the pale woman that had nothing to do with the red contacts, like the lords of the dead had gifted the assistant medical examiner with an unearthly beauty, but the jury was still out on whether said gods even existed in the first place, so I decided to chalk it up to good genes.
“You’re going to burn a hole through me if you keep staring at me like that,” she said without looking in my direction. “And that is not my preferred way to greet the afterlife. Although, I suppose each experience with death would yield a new way to see things.”
“I’m definitely seeing things differently,” I laughed and looked down at my arms.
I strolled across the morgue, grabbed the leather stool, and dragged it over to the computer desk. The file with my autopsy was opened on the screen as Raven added notes about my resurrection, and how my body had miraculously healed itself. I was surprised to see that there wasn’t anything about the experiments that we’d just done, especially when the assistant medical examiner submitted the new records and started to work on another one of her charges.
“Not going to put in my superpowers?” I teased.
“No,” she said with a firm shake of her head. “That is for my own personal interest. It’s why I used my own notebook. You don’t think that I’d put cat stickers on official government property, do you?”
“No,” I chuckled. “I guess I just thought that you’d let them know everything.”
“My job is to make an account of the dead,” the goth woman said and turned to look me in the eyes. “You are no longer one of my charges. My interest hasn’t faded, but the scope of my professional work extends only to the method of your death and your vessel while it is still deceased. Any scientific, or otherworldly, curiosity exists outside of my work. Speaking of which, I only have three hours left on my shift. Would you like to go out to breakfast with me when I’m finished?”
“That would be great,” I said and handed her my phone. “Go ahead and put in your number. I’m going to go back home and get showered and changed. I should also call my parents and let them know that I’m alive.”
“Your landlord should be your first phone call,” she said and handed my phone back. “You’ve been dead for almost a full day. That means your landlord is likely planning to empty out your apartment and put it back on the market today.”
“Damn, you’re right,” I said and glanced at the clock on the wall.
Mrs. Krux was always up long before dawn, so it wouldn’t be too early to call, and I had no doubt that the tough old lady had every intention of putting my apartment on the market right away. It was actually pretty decent, especially for a studio apartment that had its own washer and dryer hookups, even with the stench from the dump during the summer. There would probably be offers by the end of the day, and that meant that I needed to hurry.
“I’ll text you the address of my favorite diner,” Raven said as I stood. “It has fairly decent food, and the wait staff is used to seeing those of us from the morgue and the labs.”
“Awesome,” I said and then leaned down to give her a kiss on the cheek on impulse. “And thanks for taking such good care of me when I was in your charge. I hope that if I die again that you’ll be the coroner that takes care of me.”
“Of course,” the goth woman said as she reached up to touch her cheek. “I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I waved goodbye, shifted the bag on my shoulder, and then padded out of the morgue and into the hallway. Everything was painted the bright white of a hospital, but there was a somber feeling that hung in the air as if the presence of the morgue demanded respect. I glanced in both directions and then followed the signs toward the exit.
“John!” Paul’s voice called from my right as I passed by the labs. “Man, I’m glad I caught you. Here. These are my gym sneakers. They’re not the best, but they’ll do for the moment. Spring may be around the corner, but the streets are still cold, and though I’m not entirely sure if you can actually get frostbite, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“Thanks,” I said and stuffed my feet into the worn shoes. “Aside from frostbite, I don’t think I want to step in the usual sidewalk garbage.”
“Oh, man,” he chuckled. “Between the gum and the dog poop, it’s a minefield out there.”
“I’ll give them to Raven at breakfast,” I said.
“Breakfast?”
“Yeah, Raven said she knows a good place that—”
“She asked you out?” the beefy man asked as his eyebrows shot upwards. “Now that’s interesting. Raven doesn’t usually go out with anyone. I think it has something to do with the guys that are interested in medical examiners. There’s a lot of freaks out there, you know? And she may have a love affair with death, but those weirdos want her to have sex in the morgue, and that’s out of line.”
“It would be disrespectful,” I agreed with a nod. “Yeah, I could see where that would be a problem.”
“I knew that I liked you,” he said and clapped me on the shoulder. “Anyway, be careful with her. Not sure if she’s just interested in you because of your resurrection or the fact that you’re unbreakable, but she’s a good person. And as her best friend’s husband, if you do anything that would break her heart, it would fall on me to find a way to keep you dead, and no one wants that.”
“Don’t worry,” I chuckled. “I think we’re just going to talk about the possibilities my newfound powers will bring. I’ve got a lot going on now that I’m… whatever I am, and I don’t know if I can really date anyone. It’s too messy.”
“Isn’t it, though?” Paul laughed and then glanced at the lab as something beeped. “My mistress calls. Talk to you later.”
I watched the beefy man rush back to one of the machines and pet it like it was a cat. Paul was such a ray of sunshine compared to Raven that I wondered what his wife was like. It would make sense for her to be gothic, too, but Raven was the happiest goth that I’d ever seen, so her best friend might be, too, and the golden retriever in human form that married her would probably fit right in.
“Time to call Mrs. Krux,” I muttered and stepped out into the morning.
It was still too early for the sun to peek above the horizon, especially in winter, so the only light came from the street lamps that lined the parking lot. The morgue was a squat building that stretched half a city block and looked more like it was a storage facility than where the dead were kept, but there was a barbed wire fence around the concrete parking lot to keep out any unwanted guests. A guard shack sat directly across from where I’d exited, and a bored-looking man stared at a TV screen while he absently drank some hot liquid with steam that rose into the air in small wisps.
I glanced around to make sure that no one was around to jump me, a force of habit from living in the city for so long, and then headed toward the guard house. The guy almost jumped out of his skin when I came up behind him and immediately reached for the gun on his hip. I lifted a hand and flashed a reassuring smile as I tried not to look intimidating, which was an easy task in my jeans and t-shirt.
“Hey,” I said. “Can I just go out of that gate? Or is it locked?”
“It’s locked,” he said and glanced behind me. “I don’t know you. Who are you?”
“I was just visiting,” I shrugged.
“Without a visitor’s pass?” the guard asked and lifted an eyebrow. “And without checking in with me?”
“I’ve been here awhile,” I said. “And I didn’t see a guard when I came in.”
It wasn’t technically a lie since I’d been dead when I first came through. The guard stared at me for a few seconds as if he was trying to decide if he should call it in, and his hand still hovered near his weapon.
