He knew what he had to do.
CHAPTER 38
The clipboard was fading.
Should it be doing that?
Dustin was pretty sure it shouldn't be doing that.
“What's happening to it?” he asked.
“It's losing its shape,” Greg said. “It's connected to the system. And I'm not part of the system anymore, so...”
“So it's dying.”
Greg blinked at that, like he couldn't see the connection Dustin was making. “It's not alive.”
Dustin stared at the clipboard. He'd never been fond of that thing, but he'd watched Greg clutch it like a lifeline in serious conversations, he'd watched him sleep with it on the nightstand where other people kept their phones.
It was Greg's most annoying habit and his most defining feature and now it was dissolving in his lap in a grocery store parking lot.
Dustin's chest felt too tight for breath.
“Could you take me somewhere?” Greg asked. “Just somewhere quiet. Somewhere nice.”
“Why?”
“I've thought of something.” Greg's voice was calm in a way which should have been reassuring but wasn't. “The demon's contract specified a reaper's soul. Those were the terms. A reaper's soul, freely given.”
“I was there.”
“If I'm not a reaper anymore, the contract can't hold. There's no reaper's soul to collect. The terms become void.”
Dustin processed this. “So you need to stop being a reaper.”
“I need to finish stopping.” Greg lifted the clipboard slightly. “This is the last piece. My tether to the system. As long as I'm holding it, I'm still connected. Still technically what I was.”
“And if you destroy it?”
“Then I'm not. And the demon gets nothing. At least I hope that's how it works.” Greg tried a smile. “I may not know much about human life, but I understand formalities.”
Dustin's chest tightened further at the sight of Greg's smile. How could he be smiling at a moment like this?
How could he be talking about formalities as if hissoulwasn't on the line?
“Please?” Greg asked. He looked down at his clipboard. “I don't think I should be doing this in this parking lot.”
“No,” Dustin said slowly. “Probably not.”
He took a deep breath and he started the truck.
Dustin drove without deciding where he was going.
That wasn't true. Some part of him had decided beforehe'd pulled out of the lot. His hands knew where they were going even if his brain hadn't caught up, because they turned left on Third and passed the coffee shop that closed at four and the only bar in town, and then they passed the high school.
They passed the chain link fence around the track field and Dustin stopped pretending he was driving aimlessly.
He pulled off the road onto the dirt shoulder and killed the engine.
