Page 46 of Wired Ghost

Sophie opened her eyes and watched the next ten minutes move by until one p.m. Then, one-oh-five. One-ten. One-fifteen. One-twenty-two.

It had to be done by now.He was gone.

Sophie shut her eyes, curling tight around herself in the bed, squeezing her own arms fiercely—but her eyes were dry. She’d cried all the tears she had.

On the nightstand, her phone buzzed. She’d left it on so Patty could check in and tell her how it had gone. Her heart lurched as she saw that it was Patty, as they’d discussed.

Did she want to hear the awful details?

Of course not.

But Sophie wasn’t a coward. Today was all about proving that. She picked up the phone. “Hello, Patty.” Her voice sounded like her throat had been scrubbed with steel wool.

Chapter Thirty-Three

Jake

Four days after rescue

Jake was having a wonderful dream.His grandmother, a woman with snow-white hair and a soft body that always smelled of talcum powder, was playing cards with him and two of his friends from his Special Forces days—Judah and Henry, men he hadn’t seen in years.

His grandfather, a tall, hale and hearty man whom Jake physically resembled, carried a tray loaded with a pitcher of lemonade, glasses, and chocolate cake to where they sat around his grandparents’ round, old-fashioned card table.

Lemonade and chocolate cake were two things Jake loved. He grinned at the sight of the treats. “Thanks, Grandpa.” The old man grunted, his usual response, but he patted Jake’s shoulder.

His friend Henry dealt a fresh hand. “Five card stud,” he said. “Ante up.”

Jake had imagined heaven would be spectacular. Grander than his grandparents’ modest ranch home. Heaven would be filled with streets of gold and palaces of pearl, and there’d be giant angels blowing horns on every street corner.

Instead, he sat in the front parlor of his grandparents’ house in Toledo, Ohio, a house he hadn’t seen since he was ten years old—where he sat at a table playing cards with dead people.

“Jake, ante up,” Henry prompted.

Jake looked down at the stack of Necco candy wafers beside his cards. Perhaps money had no meaning in heaven. That made sense.

Why didn’t he have more questions? —but he didn’t. He wasn’t stressed at all about being dead.

Jake grinned at Henry, who’d died of an aneurysm during their Special Ops training days. He was happy to see Judah, who’d drowned during an underwater search-and-rescue. Kenny, the kid leaning in the doorway, looked like he had when he passed away of a peanut allergy when they were both aged twelve.

“Here, son.”

Jake reached out to accept a large, frosty glass of lemonade from Grandpa, gone within six months of Grandma. He didn’t remember Grandpa ever pouring him anything, let alone slicing him a piece of rich chocolate cake like he was doing right now. The man had never been without a Marlboro hanging from his lip, and had always been “a mean son-of-a-bitch,” according to Jake’s father.

“Thanks, Grandpa.” Jake sipped the lemonade—cold and sweetly tangy. He smacked his lips. He tossed two Neccos into the pot to ante up, and Henry dealt everyone another card.

Yep, Jake was dead.

He was sure of it. In fact, he remembered the final expenditure of the last bit of energy he had used to push Sophie up onto the ledge above him. He remembered the agony of his last breath, and even his last thought before blessed darkness engulfed him.

This wasn’t like the last time he’d died, though, drowned by a torturer in a bucket of water. He hadn’t seen anything that time, and it had rocked him.What if there was no heaven?

This time, he’d gone to heaven. And yeah, it wasn’t what he expected. But cold lemonade, a big slab of chocolate cake, Necco wafers, and some of his favorite people weren’t a bad start.

He looked around the room.

Sophie wasn’t there.

Did that mean she hadn’t died? Or had she gone to some other waiting room in heaven or hell? There was no telling what exactly this place was.

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