Death 07 - For the Love of Death by Tamara Rose Blodgett

absolute—I step back.
    An exhale escapes me in a rush.
    “It's been fun, but— bye. ”
    I turn to leave, and his voice follows me.
    “I don’t know where you came from, if you’re some holdover Dimensional or what. But I’ll tell you this. You paranormals? You’re extinct here. E-X-T-I-N-C-T.”
    His words make me pause. I glance back.
    Paracide.
    He grins. “That’s right; you leave me here and run off. Go ahead. You won’t get two steps before the cyborgs take you down.”
    Cy-what? It's like a bad sci-fi novel.
    He interprets my expression. “Artificial Life Bots, princess. The ALBs will fuck your day right up.”
    I look him over, his lopsided head still resting against his shoulder.
    Or is it a little higher now?
    Time to go.
    I don't wait, I run.
     
    *
     
    I go where the death summons came from. It's as logical a choice as breathing.
    Where the dead are, Paxton will be.
    I stay to the greenbelts, noting the bare sidewalks with strange grates. Vapor escapes in rhythmic bursts, heating the cement sidewalks in winter. Our world uses solar and wind. Here they must have harnessed geothermal, maybe using the off gassing of nearby industry or… the earth’s crust. It’s not a field trip, but I can’t help my curiosity.
    The ALBs Brad told me about cruise up and down the streets with purpose. Many carry personal items, sundries, groceries, and slim notebook type things.
    They look straight ahead, neither backward nor sideways.
    Then one stops and I meld into the treeline, using a wild growing rhododendron for cover. It's treelike on its own and I climb up into the lower branches, making myself into a ball.
    I nest like a bird in the foliage.
    The bot appears to see me, though I know the greenery provides enough cover.
    I can hear whirs and clicks from here. Innocuous sounds. Scary sounds. I swallow hard.
    “Paranormal detected.”
    Shit.
    The other bots stop their scurrying like ants on a hill.
    More clicking, whirring and chirping ensue. I sink deeper into the arms of the bush. Blood rushes in my ears like a river of trapped noise.
    I don’t have Pax’s control of the dead. Actually, I’m caught in a volatile age, only having my power manifestation for about two years. A late bloomer, they said.
    Fear forms in my chest like an iceberg. Great calves of ice break off and float to my extremities, the beginnings of terror-induced adrenaline.
    I shift my weight and begin to topple out of the bush.
    The bots’ eyes go to the commotion I make.
    Oh no!
    Arms catch me, and a hand covers my mouth. My panic is total.
    It’s Brad. I know it. Somehow, he’s healed up and ready to hurt me.
    Then the familiar, vague, but not unpleasant smell of rot envelops me. Instant comfort.
    Not a normal reaction. Not even a human reaction. But a perfectly normal one for an AFTD.
    “Shh… I am here, mistress.”
    I crane my neck and look into eyes that are deadly, dark, and alive though he’s clearly dead.
    He cocks his eyebrows and I nod. My silence is relief, thanks, and agreement rolled into one.
    The bots are climbing the hill.
    “Your fear tore me out of the earth where I slept.”
    I swallow hard.
    He traces my jawline with a finger. A tattoo of a sword through a beating heart undulates under the motion of his muscular forearm.
    “Such fear, necromancer—where there is no need.”
    He was a huge guy in life. In death, he is an unmovable object. His eyes track movement between the branches, and his square jaw sets.
    “Don’t…” I begin.
    I know my skill level. My control is bad. Paxton could have this guy juggling grapefruit.
    Not me.
    He sets me on my feet and I come to his shoulder.
    His wardrobe looks like late twentieth, early twenty-first.
    He smiles, and there’s some teeth missing. I feel guilt then squelch it. My emotions, not a deliberate call, raised him. I’m freaking here and can’t get my shit together.
    No one raises a perfect zombie when they’re tripping.
    The sound of metal bodies’ stealthy