Ex-Communication by Peter Clines (love story books to read .txt) 📕

“But there could be other exceptions,” said someone in the crowd.

“No,” said Max, “There aren’t.”

“The Bible talks about all this,” said another man. “The end of days, the dead coming back as zombies. It’s all true.”

“There’s dozens of resurrections predicted in the Bible,” agreed Max, “but even the ones in Revelation aren’t about zombies rising up to attack mankind. They’re just saying when the end comes, the dead get to enter Heaven first because they’ve been waiting the longest.” He waved his arm out at the Big Wall, at the distant sound of teeth. “I know it’s comforting to believe this stuff, but it’s just not true. I’ve got suits with more personality left in them than your average ex. Everything you loved about them is long gone.”

“But I’ve seen my sister,” said one man. “She’s still wearing her favorite shirt.”

“She’s wearing clothes, Mr. Diamint,” said St. George. “It’s just what she died in, like a lot of other exes. Captain Freedom can tell you just because they’re still wearing a uniform doesn’t mean they’re thinking like soldiers. Last time we were over in Burbank there was one wearing a cell phone costume. It doesn’t mean he’s still thinking about his phone contract.”

“How do you know?” shouted one man. Harry, one of the part-time drivers for the scavengers. He tended to follow Christian around. His nose was still crooked from being broken a year and a half ago. “How can you know what’s happened to their souls?”

“I know,” said Max. “I was there, remember?”

Again, his words tripped them up. Harry glanced at Christian. Doubt flickered on her face.

“When it comes to cheating death,” the sorcerer told the crowd, “I’m the only guy who brought a parachute. Everyone else fell the whole way. And believe me, having been dead, they were the lucky ones. The last thing you should be wishing for is that they’ve spent the past three years in the purgatory I did. I was ready for it and it almost drove me insane.”

A woman in the back sniffled. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Christian said. “You’re just confused because of your journey.”

“You can’t have it both ways,” said Max, raising his voice a little more. “You want to believe I’m the way to bring your families back? That’s great, but if you believe me, then I’m telling you it can’t happen. Your friends and loved ones are not outside the Big Wall waiting for someone to flip a switch so they can be alive and hug you again. The real world doesn’t work that way. Real problems don’t get solved with a snap of a finger. The exes are just walking corpses. They’re dead. That’s it.”

Diamint’s shoulders slumped. It was a gesture of resignation, but St. George saw a little relief in it, too. Another man looked up at the sky and pressed his eyes shut. The sniffling woman started to sob. A man put his arm around her. Christian clutched her Bible in a death grip.

“Don’t you get it?” said Max. “You’re not praying, you’re just … wishing. And wishes don’t come true.”

Someone else started to cry. Diamint drifted away and led a woman with him. Another man slumped against one of the oversized potted plants flanking the gateway into the Mount.

“I’m sorry,” said St. George.

“You’re just saying this to make us look foolish because of our faith,” Christian said. “That’s why people believe in me just as much as you. People can depend on me when things get tough.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you … you have to ruin everything, don’t you,” she snarled. “Keep all the good things for yourselves. You can’t even let people have hope, you have to ruin it.”

“This is a false hope,” Stealth said. “Nothing good can come of it.”

“It lets people cope,” snapped Harry.

“It allows people to deny the reality of our situation,” said the cloaked woman. “That is a luxury none of us can afford.”

“We have to look forward,” said St. George. “If we just cling to what the world was—what our lives were—we’re never going to accomplish anything.”

“Speaking of looking forward,” said Max with another glance at the sky, “there are some things we need to do here if we want there to be a future.”

Christian looked ready to tear her Bible in half. St. George was sure the woman would’ve if she’d been strong enough. She glared at him for a moment.

Then the anger went out of her and she tucked the book under her arm. “We’ll discuss this more soon,” she said. “Believe it.”

She turned and marched through the crowd. Some of them followed her. Others seemed confused and drifted in the streets.

Stealth took St. George’s arm. “Ilya has tried to reach you,” she said, gesturing at the dangling earbud. “He has found three swords he believes may suit our needs.”

“That’s great,” said St. George.

“We have also received an urgent summons from Dr. Connolly. She says it cannot wait.”

“Okay. I’ll catch up with you la—”

“We, George. She wishes to speak with both of us.”

Max nodded. “Go,” he said. “I need some time to figure out a good shield spell I can paint on you instead of tattooing.”

St. George held out his hand and Stealth grabbed his wrist. They shot into the sky.

ST. GEORGE AND Stealth landed outside the hospital. The receptionist told them Connolly was in one of the small labs on the fourth floor. They walked across the lobby to the stairwell.

They were on the second landing when Stealth spoke. “In some religions,” she said, “your willingness to sacrifice yourself could be seen as making you more honorable and holy.”

He tried to smile. “That’s good. I think I’m going to need every edge I can get.”

“I would not put much trust in Maxwell’s offer to assist you.”

“Why not?”

“Despite his bravado and professed expertise, I believe he is far more an amateur than he would like to admit.”

“Ahhh.”

They passed the door for the third floor.

“Also,” she said, “he is lying