THREE DAYS AFTER HE WAS MURDERED, RICHARD PRATT BEGAN TO FEEL MUCH BETTER...
A seemingly random act of violence propels Professor Richard Pratt into The Hereafter. It is a strange, muted, netherworld of the dead-a world in which he is forced to bear...
Dropping his head, Keith asked the next question. The one he really wanted to know, but didn't know how to ask.
"And how does he... seem? Is he... okay? I mean, emotionally? Mentally?"
Pil closed a second hand over Keith's and took a few moments to respond. "I guess that's hard to say. Keith, the process... The thing that Richard did to make me into a medium... It meant that he and I had our minds locked together in a way that I don't pretend to understand. It was way different from the first time. Richard said he possessed me that first time through violence and hate. But this time, he did it through... I don't know, I guess empathy is the word. It was strange and... intimate, and I don't know... I'm not sure what I felt. Or what it means."
"Try to tell me," Keith said, his eyes still on the floor.
"I guess what I'm trying to say is it's hard to know whether Richard has changed, or if I just saw him for the first time. You know, I mean... really saw him. You know I was never really a big fan of the man. I never told you that directly, but I'm sure you could sense that Michelle and I never really... trusted him. But after tonight... Well, it's not that I trust him now. But I finally see him for what he is."
"And what is that?"
"I guess... I'd have to say, a good man. But a broken one. One who has been broken for a long time. Long before any of this happened. And one who doesn't have much fight left in him."
Keith heard so much truth in Pil's words that he could almost picture Richard in his mind, almost feel him there in the room with them, although he had known from the moment he woke up that he and Pil were alone. And yet what his friend was describing in his humble way was the essence of the man that he had fallen in love with. Yes, Richard had always been a little broken. Keith never knew if it was from what happened with Justin, or something that dated from much earlier in his life. Richard had been aware of it too, although they had never talked about it directly. Not because it was a taboo subject, but because they both had realized from the very start that neither of them would have the right words. Keith quickly came to accept that helping Richard to heal was a big part of his reason for them being together, but that his healing would come through love and care, not through conversation or analysis. So when Richard had held him especially tightly, or he had felt tears come into his lover's eyes unexpectedly, they had found their way through it in each other's arms.
Keith realized that he had been silent for a very long time. And that Pil was just holding his hand, waiting for him to speak. The warmth he felt from the big man felt very much like the warmth he had struggled to give Richard, and it was a strange sensation to be on the other end of it.
"You said he doesn't have much fight left in him," Keith finally said, trying to bring himself back into the moment. "What is it he's fighting for?"
Pil sighed and had to think for a moment. "I'm not sure. I think he really wants to save the city. But he can only do that if he knows you're safe. So I guess what he's really fighting for, and what is keeping him going, is you. The reason he did this to me was so that I could take you out of here. Protect you, until we could get out of the valley. Billy says we should go up to the University. I guess the border of what they call the Hereafter is right there, at Red Butte Canyon."
"I know where that is," Keith said, weakly. "Richard and I liked to hike up there during long lunches in the summer. It's really close. We could probably walk there in an hour or so. Two at the most."
"That's good. And if we can get up the canyon, Billy says that we'll be safe."
"From Justin?"
"Yeah. From Justin, and from any of the other... bad ghosts. Billy calls them 'Drouillard's angels.' I guess most of the ghosts are like Billy and Richard. They're not dangerous. There are really only a few hundred that are doing all this."
"Where is Richard now? Did he and Billy leave with Howard?"
"No, K. They're still here. They're in the dining room. Richard wanted me to talk to you first, and explain everything. He wanted me to make sure you knew everything was going to be okay.
"I want to see him. I want to talk to him," Keith said, trying to stand up. But the effects of the drug were still dogging him, and he didn't quite make it to his feet. He fell back to the couch, and Pil caught him in his arms. The feel of the man's big, muscular arms around him made Keith feel like a child.
"He knew you'd want to talk to him, and he's waiting. Here, let me help you." Pil got him to his feet and held him up with his forearms under his shoulders. Keith's head was barely to the middle of Pil's chest, and he let himself sink heavily against the man's warm body. It felt safe and comforting, and Pil kept him there against him as his head slowly stopped spinning.
"K, I know you need to do this. But it's not going to be easy. You're not going to be able to see him, or hear him. Are you sure you want to put yourself through this?"
Keith didn't hesitate for a second. "I'm sure. Take me to Richard."
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