Reapers, Inc. - Brigit's Cross Read Online Free Page A

looked
into the camera. That light was always present, even when she was
mad. That light was part of what made Brigit feel complete.
    Brigit looked at her watch again. It still
read twelve past seven and she realized it was broken. She frowned
and shook her head in sadness. It had run perfectly for ten years.
It had been a gift from Maggie after discovering that Brigit lacked
the ability to be on time for anything. It was a basic watch on a
basic black leather band, but Brigit loved it. It was from Maggie.
It meant something.
    A knock on the door brought Brigit from her
thoughts. She stood to go answer it but stopped short when she saw
the deadbolt. It was turned. The door was locked tight and she knew
she had not touched it when she closed the door. The knock came
again. She held her breath as she slowly crept to the door and
peered through the peep hole. Two uniformed policemen stood on the
other side.
    “She must be out,” Brigit heard one of them
say as she pulled away from the door.
    “Should we wait?”
    “Nah, we’ll come back,” the first officer
decided out loud with a sigh. “I hate these calls. They’re so
depressing.”
    Brigit went back to Maggie’s chair and sat
down. Maggie would be home soon and everything would be fine. None
of this was really happening. It couldn’t be and Maggie would
reassure her of that as soon as she came home.
    She sighed heavily and crossed her legs. From
Maggie’s chair, she could see the street below. She’d be able to
see Maggie coming home. Her gaze slowly rested on the picture
again. Her mind had stopped racing, but it was still grinding over
the events of the evening.
    It was a bad dream. That man – John Blackwick
– he had to be wrong. She was alive. She was fine, no matter what
she had seen after getting to her feet in the alleyway. He had
called her by her full name. How did he know her? Brigit knew
Maggie would help her make sense of it. If only she would hurry up
and come home…
    Brigit bit her lip to quell the emotions that
were beginning to rise from the pit of her stomach. She couldn’t be
dead. She had picked herself up from the pavement. She had seen
John standing against the wall, heard his voice telling her what
happened. She had seen the crumpled body wearing her coat. She had
seen the pool of blood growing over the cement. Yet, she had picked
herself up and ran full tilt form the alley up 8th Avenue to their
apartment on 68th Street. While it was a distance she had traveled
by foot before, it was not one she had ever traveled in less than
two hours.
    As if to reassure herself, she looked at her
palms. They were smooth and pink. Her mind began to revolt again as
she peered at them in disbelief. She had felt the glass cutting
into them when she had caught herself on the cement. Yet, there
were no cuts, no blood – there was nothing…
    She couldn’t be dead. She had a promise to
keep – a promise she had made to Maggie.
    They had stood on the beach where they had
first met, on the one year anniversary of their meeting. It was the
first of November and a crisp breeze had blown off the ocean all
day, but they had ignored it. They were bundled in their favorite
sweaters and their enigmatic love for one another. As the light of
the day faded, the stars became crystal clear against the sky that
was the deepest shade of blue. The small fire Brigit had built
burned steadily and a bottle of wine sat opened on the blanket
where they had spent the afternoon watching the horizon slowly,
ever so slowly, give birth to the full moon. As they stood at the
water’s edge watching the moon reach it’s zenith, Brigit had held
Maggie’s hand and gazed deep into her eyes and promised a long life
together until the last breath.
    Brigit had been so sure that she would be the
last one to go, that she would outlast Maggie by at least a day.
She had never imagined that she would ever leave Maggie alone. She
had made the promise that she never would and now, she had