Page 31 of Dead Serious: Case 3 Mr Bruce Reyes

“Do what you like,” she says nonchalantly as she picks up the ashtray and joint, tucks the gin bottle under her arm, her ever-present bracelets jangling loudly, and disappears through the beaded curtain into the back.

I turn to Dusty and see her open her mouth to speak.

“Don’t bother wasting your breath,” I say, trying to placate her. “You know what Viv’s like. Just ignore her.”

Dusty lets out a loud sigh. “Come on, let’s go and find Bruce.”

I follow her through the bookshop, trusting she knows where she’s going. She leads me through a door and into a stock room that I remember from Christmas Eve, when Bruce himself first brought me here to show me the doorway. But I also remember that the large room in which the doorway is located is on the other side of a solid wall, in an in-between place that doesn’t exist in the corporeal world.

“Uh, Dusty.” I turn to her with a worried gaze. “How am I supposed to”–I point to the wall–“you know.”

She smiles widely and holds out her hand. “Do you trust me?”

After staring at her outstretched palm for a moment, I take a deep breath, reach out, and grasp it. I can’t really explain what is going on. There’s nothing solid to hold onto, yet I can feel her hand. She steps closer to the wall, and I move with her.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” I whisper when she moves toward the wall and disappears through it. I stop dead and her arm protrudes through the flat surface, her hand still in mine. A moment later, Dusty’s head reappears.

“Come on, trust me.” She grins. “You won’t feel a thing.”

Drawing in a deep breath, I close my eyes and step through. A curiously cool feeling washes over me like I’ve stepped through a waterfall. When I emerge on the other side, I stop and blink.

Pushing my hood back, I stare at the room we’re standing in.

It’s just as I remember it, cavernous and with a raised dais upon which stands a stone archway: the doorway into the afterlife. But that’s where the familiarity ends. Last time I stood in this room, I was with Bruce, and it was filled with a neat, orderly queue of spirits waiting for their turn to step through and find their loved ones.

Not now.

There isn’t one single spirit, not even the frightening and sour-faced civil servant Doris who stamped forms and peered over the top of her cat-eye glasses with suspicious eyes. Her desk is empty, her old-fashioned typewriter silent, and the towering stacks of paperwork that looked like they were going to topple at any moment are gone.

“What the hell?” Dusty mutters, looking as puzzled as I am. “What the fuck is going on? Where’s Bruce?”

“Dusty? Tristan?”

We both turn to find Bruce standing beside the dais, seeming to have appeared from nowhere.

“Bruce,” Dusty breathes in relief. “You worried me.” She gestures around the empty space. “What happened?”

“I’m not sure.” Bruce frowns. “It’s been really quiet the past few days anyway. Then today, everyone just… disappeared and Doris was recalled to the afterlife. I thought that maybe—”

Bruce keeps talking but it’s like someone has hit the mute button. His lips are still moving, but I can’t hear a word he’s saying. I turn to look at Dusty. Her wide eyes lock on mine and from the look on her face, I can tell she’s just as confused as I am.

“—and then poof… weird, huh?” Bruce tunes back in. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Are you feeling okay, Bruce?” I ask tentatively.

“Well, now that you mention it, I have been feeling a bit off the past couple of days. I ju–”

This time it isn’t just Bruce’s voice that cuts out. He turns transparent and flickers before disappearing.

“Bruce!” Dusty reaches for him, but he’s gone. “Oh my god! Tristan, what do we do?”

“I have no idea!” My voice rises to match her panicked pitch.

Suddenly, Bruce reappears. “What the hell?” He lifts his hands and stares at them.

“Bruce,” I say as gently as possible. “We think your bones have been discovered.”

“My…bones?” He drops his hands and stares at me.