Die for Me by Amy Plum Page B

mind is still active. And once our body awakes, we go back to a few more weeks of absolute, but sleepless, normalcy.”
    Charles mumbled, “Yeah, right.”
    â€œWell, one could say that that gives the bare bones of the story,” Gaspard said helpfully.
    â€œYou were . . . dormant yesterday?” I asked Vincent.
    He nodded. “The end of the three days,” he said. “Now I’ll be fine for almost a month.”
    â€œYou don’t look very fine to me,” I responded, staring at his skin’s waxy pallor.
    â€œIt takes several hours to recover from dormancy,” Vincent said with a weak smile. “For a human it would be like having open-heart surgery. You don’t just pop out of the hospital bed as soon as the anesthesia wears off.”
    That made sense. If he kept going with the human analogies, I might be able to stomach this whole bizarre scenario a bit better. From the way they were arguing, they clearly weren’t used to having to explain their situation. It was up to me to figure things out.
    I turned to Jules. “You’re over a hundred years old.”
    â€œI’m nineteen,” he said.
    â€œSo you never age?” I asked.
    â€œOh yeah, we age all right. Look at Jean-Baptiste—he died at thirty-six, but he’s in his sixties!” said Charles.
    â€œAnd how old would Jean-Baptiste be if he hadn’t . . . you know?” I fumbled for words.
    â€œTwo hundred thirty-five,” answered Gaspard without hesitation and, looking at the others, continued, “May I?”
    Charles nodded, and the rest stayed quiet.
    â€œAfter we animate, we age at the same rate as anyone else. However, each time we die, we subsequently reanimate at the same age that we died the very first time. Jules died when he was nineteen, therefore each time he dies, he starts again at nineteen. Vincent was eighteen when he died, but hasn’t died for, what’s it been now? A bit over a year?” He directed his question to Vincent, but I cut him off.
    â€œWhat do you mean, ‘each time you die’?” I asked. The spine-chilling icy finger was making another appearance. Vincent tightened his hold on my hand.
    â€œLet’s just say there are a lot of people who need to be saved,” said Jules, winking.
    I stared at him, struggling to understand what he was inferring. Then my eyes widened. “The man in the subway!” I gasped. “You saved his life!”
    He nodded.
    â€œBut how—I mean, didn’t—” I burst out, not able to form one single thought as a dozen flooded my mind simultaneously. I remembered Vincent diving after the girl, and Charlotte saving me from death-by-crushing.
    â€œYou died saving someone, and you keep doing it after death,” I said finally. Maybe I was stating the obvious, but the lightbulb had finally flicked on above my head.
    â€œIt’s the whole reason for our being,” Vincent said. “We’re bound to that one mission for the rest of our existence.”
    I stared at him. I didn’t even know how to react. My mind was a blank.
    â€œI think it’s time to wind down this Q and A session,” Vincent said to the others. “Kate’s getting to the information-overload stage. And I’m too tired to continue.”
    â€œYou can’t tell her—” began Gaspard.
    â€œGaspard!” Vincent yelled, and then closed his eyes from the effort. “I . . . swear I will not tell Kate anything else . . . of importance . . . without consulting you first. Cross my heart.” Vincent drew an X across his chest and glared at the man.
    â€œWell, then,” Ambrose said, getting up. “Now that we’re done scaring the human—I mean, Katie-Lou here”—he paced over and clapped me on the shoulder affectionately—“it’s time for some grub,” and he walked through the