The Big Reap Read Free

intended, and my voice sounded unfamiliar to my own ears, but I think it got the point across. Herr Grumpypants on the radio in the other room seemed to disagree. His nattering started up again, far louder now, with a barked Nein, nein, nein! It was an ice pick to the temples. I could barely hear myself think.
    â€œ Who I am is not as important at this moment as what I am. Just as who you are is no longer as important as what you are. My name is Lilith. I’m to be your handler. And you, Collector, are to be my little undead pet.”
    â€œM-my h-h-handler?”
    â€œThat’s right,” she said.
    â€œI d-d-don’t understand.”
    She heaved an exaggerated sigh, as if she were a schoolmarm and I a particularly obstinate student. “You wouldn’t, would you? Your kind never seem to. It’s been forever since my last babysitting assignment – I would have thought you lot would be savvier by now. Too much for me to hope for, I suppose. So allow me to explain to you how your afterlife’s to work. It’s quite simple, really. Your job, for all eternity, is to collect the souls of the damned. My job is to communicate to you your assignments, and to ensure you do not step out of line. Do as I say, and you and I shall get along just fine. Disobey me, and I’ll be forced to take action to ensure you won’t again. Are we clear?”
    None of this was making sense. I said as much. Lilith rolled her eyes like I was the crazy one.
    â€œLook,” I said, my words coming easier now, requiring less concentration, though the din of the radio made it hard for me to hear them as I spoke. “I don’t know who you are, or what you’re playing at. But you’re going to have to play at it by yourself. I need to go find my Elizabeth.”
    â€œElizabeth?” she asked, the faintest hint of a smile dancing across her perfect lips. “Ah, yes, your star-crossed wife. I assure you, she’s quite well. After all, those were the terms of your bargain as I understand them. But I’m afraid seeing her is out of the question.”
    â€œLike hell it is.”
    â€œFinally, Collector, you’re catching on.”
    â€œWhy do you keep calling me that? My name is Sam.”
    â€œ Was ,” she replied.
    â€œI don’t follow.”
    â€œYour name in life was Sam. In death, I may call you anything I wish. And I prefer Collector. It suggests an air of professionalism, don’t you think?”
    â€œI think this whole conversation suggests an air of flat-out crazy,” I replied, “and I’ve had about all of it I can take. Now you’re either going to help me up or not, but either way, I’m getting out of here – even if it means I have to crawl. I’ve got a wife to apologize to.”
    â€œNo, you don’t,” she said, not unkindly. “You have a widow. One you’re forbidden from seeing – unless, of course, you wish to nullify your deal and send the poor girl into an unfortunate state of relapse.” At that, I blanched, and swallowed hard. Lilith took note, nodding once to indicate her satisfaction that her message had been received, and then continued. “And I suspect by now your legs will work just fine. It always takes a while for a Collector’s vessel to acquiesce to its commands. Of course, unless this vessel’s a world-class swimmer, those legs won’t get you where you wish to go, working or no.”
    â€œYou’re telling me this ain’t Manhattan? So where, then? Brooklyn? Queens?”
    â€œI think you misunderstand the nature of our relationship,” Lilith replied. “I am to be your master, not your tour guide. And this is your first lesson as a Collector, not some meet-and-greet. Now how about you do as I’ve suggested and test those legs of yours?”
    Two-thirds of everything this chick said made no goddamn sense, but she was right about my legs at least. I