Chapter Twenty-Nine
Heaven smelled like burnt ass. Sam didn’t know what she’d expected once she’d crossed over, but she’d at least hoped for something with a better aroma. Nutmeg maybe. Warm apple pie. She thought the afterlife would be like the Christmas mornings from those old TV specials. Crackling fire. Rocking chairs. Laughing. A sense of nostalgia, even though it was happening for the first time.
But this smelled. It smelled like…
“Joel.”
He held a bloody rag to the side of his head, over a gash that stretched from his eyebrow almost to his ear.
“Hey.” He smiled, even though it clearly hurt him to.
“We aren’t dead, are we?”
“No, we are not.”
Sam sat up on her elbows. She blinked several times before the room came into view. She was in her room, on her bed, with an IV in her a
