Page 19 of Deader than Dead

Green eyes. His eyes were green. And he looked so much better with color in his cheeks rather than the waxy pallor of death. I’d been right about his height, Bellamy just a couple of inches shorter than I was. He wore the T-shirt I’d stripped him out of earlier, the one that had Life is for Living emblazoned across the chest, and a black leather jacket. The jacket was a poor fit: too tight across the shoulders, giving the impression that it wasn’t his and he’d borrowed it from someone. In his hand he held my bag, the one they’d forced me to leave behind when they’d escorted me out of the building.

He held the bag up, revealing a slight tremor to his fingers. Which could have meant anything from him being nervous, to him not having much time before his soul left his body once more. “This is going to sound crazy,” he said, “but… something brought me here. I don’t know why. I just knew I had to come.” He gave the bag a little shake, his cheeks bearing the slight flush of embarrassment. “Is this yours?”

I nodded, words seeming too difficult, my fingers gripping the doorjamb so tightly they’d gone white. He held it out, and I released my death grip for long enough to take it from him. I opened it to find that all the candles were in there. That wasn’t that surprising, but finding the knife was. I would have thought that Crocodile would have taken it, but then I guess they hadn’t thought there was any danger in leaving a weapon next to a corpse who couldn’t be reanimated.

“My name’s Bellamy,” he said.

“John,” I managed, the single syllable word feeling large and unwieldy on my lips.

Bellamy studied me for a few seconds. “Do we know each other?” How was I supposed to respond to that? Neither a denial nor an affirmative seemed like the right fit. The answer was far more complex. Thankfully, Bellamy shook his head, dismissing his own question before I was forced to answer it. “I guess we must, or how would I have known to come here.”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Did he remember dying? They often didn’t, just like Alfred this morning when he’d rebelled against the notion, even as Maria kept telling him what had happened.

The furrows on Bellamy’s brow grew more pronounced and I had to fight the urge to smooth them away, my fingers itching to touch, to feel the warmth in his skin that hadn’t been there earlier. Bellamy shook his head, his expression pained. “I don’t know. I remember being in a bar, but things are muddled. Like there are things I can remember, but I’m not sure what order they happened in, or if they were even real.” He let out a laugh, completely devoid of humor. “I know that makes no sense.”

It did, but if he didn’t remember dying, I was loath to just throw it out there. Chances were, he wouldn’t believe me, anyway. And the last thing I wanted was for him to flee into the night. This was the conversation I’d wanted, the one I’d craved, my one and only chance to find out about the man, as absurd as it might be, that I already loved. “You’d better come in,” I said.

He hesitated, and for a moment, I thought he might refuse. But then he smiled and stepped over the threshold. I closed the door behind him and led him into the kitchen, flicking the light on. “Do you want a cup of tea?”

It was four in the morning. It was hardly the time for tea, but we were British and it was what we did when there were problems that needed solving.

Bellamy seemed to agree, nodding enthusiastically at the idea. “Yes please. Milk. One sugar.”

I set about making it as Bellamy settled himself at the kitchen table. I still couldn’t believe he was here. In my house. Breathing and with a pulse. The impossible had become possible.

“Did I wake you?” he asked.

I glanced his way as I poured milk into both mugs, the fact that we took our tea the same way not having escaped my notice. “It’s fine.”

“You’re dressed, though,” Bellamy said. “Did you go to bed with your clothes on?” I placed a steaming mug of tea down in front of him and seated myself opposite. He pulled the mug closer to him and wrapped his hands around it. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I can’t seem to get warm.” He shook his head. “And I keep jumping between subjects. Sorry. It’s like my brain’s been scrambled. I think I might have banged my head or something.”

I mirrored his posture, wrapping my hands around my mug, the feeling of warmth against my palms comforting. “Why don’t you tell me what you can remember?”

“You’ll think I’m crazy.”

“I promise I won’t.”

He laughed. “I think I’m crazy, so I don’t know how you wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

He let out a sigh. “I woke up in a place I’ve never been before.”

So, he hadn’t been one of them. At least that answered one of my questions. If he had been, he would have visited the tower block before. In a way, though, that just made me angrier. If he wasn’t one of them, why was he there, and what had led to his death without there being any signs of trauma?

“I was half naked.” He pulled a face. “No one wants to wake up half-naked in a place they don’t recognize. Do you think someone gave me Rohypnol? That makes you forget things, doesn’t it?” He plucked at the front of his T-shirt. “This is mine, but I wasn’t wearing it. It was next to me on the bed. I’ve no idea who took it off me.”

I did, but I wasn’t about to tell him it had been me. Not when it would lead to too many questions. “You woke up. Then what happened?”

He closed his eyes momentarily. “There was a voice in my head… an urging that told me I needed to return the things in the room to their owner, to you, so I gathered them all up and put them in the bag and brought it with me.”

“How did you get out of the building?”

He frowned, like the question made no sense. “What do you mean?”

“Did you see anyone?”

Bellamy shook his head. “The place was deserted. Well, the bits that I could see. There were lots of doors, but I only opened one of them. The room was empty. Although there was someone close by. I could hear them snoring in the bedroom.” He plucked at his sleeve. “That’s where I found this jacket. I didn’t want to push my luck by looking anywhere else. I just wanted to get out of there. The place didn’t give me the best vibes, if you know what I mean.”

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