Half Dead World: Book One from the Apocalypse Tales by Adrienne Hargrove (little readers txt) 📗

He laughs, loud and rich and I can’t help but smile at the sound. But I refuse to be redirected, so after a sidelong glance at a surprisingly nice smile, I refocus on the original topic. “So, why shouldn’t the others see the color we make?”

“In the interest of self-preservation, I will answer your question. But I swear to you it will be the last discussion until we have settled into the light.”

“Agreed”

“The collision of two souls creates a unique color just like no individual soul is exactly the same color.”

“How is that possible? I would assume there are many souls.”

“There are more than you could imagine but think about a color and think how many variations could be in a single color. Different shades or levels of brightness all create a unique aura.”

“So many of the colors, or auras would be similar?”

“Yes, but the color that is created when they collide is completely different it’s not just a mixture of the two colors. I think of the colors as a glimpse of Heaven because they are so otherworldly. They are all beautiful, but some souls mix better than others. Some combine to form something so phenomenally beautiful that it seems absolute proof of a greater power beyond human understanding.”

“Are you saying that our soul mixture is beautiful or phenomenally beautiful?” I glance over at him and he looks so unbearably uncomfortable that I already know the answer to my question.

“I don’t get why that’s a bad thing? Is there something offensive about me, some reason why you wouldn’t want your soul to mix well with mine?” I ask feeling suddenly insecure and angry about it.

He shakes his head. “No, it is not that at all. It is just that I have been here for a very long time and most people have several soul matches. I have only had one and that one is no longer here. And of all the matches I have seen, I have never seen one as extraordinary as ours.”

I am speechless for a minute, lost in his explanation and the thought that we might be soul mates. I mean he is cute, but I’m dead and we can’t even touch so what good does any of it do me? Not to mention so far, he seems pretty bossy and aloof.

“Wait, I thought people only had one soul mate? You said most people have several.”

“You think that because your culture sexualizes everything. But try to think of it as more like a kindred spirit. Some souls just harmonize more naturally.”

“So, you think we are just kindred spirits?”

“I don’t know what we are, but I don’t want to figure it out in front of the entire assembly.”

“The assembly?”

I look at him for an answer, but he is already raising his arms and pointing towards the woods. And I see it in the middle of the dark rainy woods there is a huge dome of soft light. It’s as if there are a million candles lit in the middle of the forest. I can almost feel the warmth from the glow of the light, and I forget everything but my desire to go to it and be in its comfort.

“The assemblies are places where the watchers go to gather. They are places of light that rarely go dark. The path of light on which we are traveling, for instance, will fade and may become overrun with darkness. The light that was with you when you died, the one that enabled me to find you, will soon be gone. We are traveling to a home of believers. The believers are filled with light and that light protects us from the darkness.”

That statement snaps me out of my daze. “So, you’re telling me that our safety is dependent upon whether or not we can find believers to gather around?”

“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in heavenly places.”

“Huh?”

“It’s from the bible.”

“I know that!” I say a little too defensively.

I catch a glimpse of a smile cross his lips. “Pardon me, I did not mean to imply anything. I was just answering your question. You see the living tend to think that the spiritual battles they fight are only for them. But this is one of the scriptures that was given to show them that their decisions are about so much more than mere earthly happiness, or even just themselves. We are all affected when one of the living believers allows evil to overtake their spirit.”

“Do you mean “all” as in all the dead people?”

“Well, I can’t speak for those in heaven, or those at rest, or those still living, for that matter. I am referring to those of us in the in between.”

He stops us just inside the light, on the fringes, and I feel a little thrill as a wave of joy washes over me. I can’t stop the goofy smile from erupting on my face. He looks at me and smiles back and, if my heart was still beating, I’m sure it would have stopped. He is breath taking when he smiles, and his eyes nearly glow in the warm light. They are grey with silver streaking through them.

“Do you feel it?”

I answer breathlessly. “Yes”

“You will always feel it, the peace and joy of the light, when you are in it. But I think the first time is more special.”

“Oh…oh…oh” I can’t help repeating myself as I realize, embarrassingly, that we were not talking about feeling the same thing. He gives me a curious look but says nothing. I search for something to say to ease my mortification. “This isn’t the first time I’ve felt it.” His eyebrows shoot up