[ WP ] People revive for 3 days after death and receive superhuman strength , agility , endurance , coordination and intelligence before truly passing away .

Friday could n't come soon enough for Aaren. The week had been a drudgery of spreadsheets and reports, collating data on ultimately meaningless facts concerning the latest incident he'd been assigned to. He was n't unused to paperwork - he'd gone into government employment knowing full well he'd be filing paperwork on paperwork about other paperwork - but this case was particularly dull and meaningless. A single-aircraft incident with no fatalities, no property damage, and only minor injuries. The only reason it warranted so much attention was because a senator's son was involved. 
 
 It was these thoughts that distracted Aaren as he pulled into the parking garage for his apartment building. He was so distracted, so focused on the thought of making it upstairs and relaxing on the couch, that it took him several seconds to notice the figure standing next to the pillar about halfway between his parking spot and the stairwell. It would have been several more seconds for him to recognize the figure, had it but cleared it's trust and spoken. 
 
 `` Hello, Ren.'' 
 
 The words filled him with a unique, familiar mix of dread and depression. Every part of his brain wanted him to get back in his car and just drive until he ran out of gas, except for the parts that wanted him to drive to one of the shadier parts of town and get a different kind of fuel entirely. Instead he took a moment, steadied himself, then kept waking as he spoke in his best I'm-not-calm-but-I'm-calm voice. 
 
 `` Whatever you have, I do n't want it. Whatever your excuse is, I do n't buy it. You are n't a part of my life and I'm going to keep it that way.'' Aaren paused as he stood a few feet from the man. `` Go away, Paul. You're not my father and I'm not your son. Not anymore.'' He kept walking. 
 
 `` Son, we need to talk.'' His fathe -- no, Paul's words did n't stop him. Aaren considered flipping him off as he walked, but decided not. The bastard would get no further acknowledgement from him. `` Son... Ren... dammit, I guess we'll have to do it this way.'' The last words made Aaren tense, wondering if this was when the physical violence, inevitable as always, would start. `` Do n't react, do n't flinch, do n't react,'' he kept thinking to himself, waiting for the sounds of violence to ring out. Nothing... and then an odd squealing, followed by Paul saying his name again in a strangely calm voice. It was that calm more than anything that made him turn against his better judgement, only to rock backwards in surprise. 
 
 Paul Donahue stood calmly next to Aaren's Prius. Next to, and under it technically. Paul's right hand gripped the rear of the car, lifting it well up above his average height. Other than a wider stance, Paul looked relaxed, as if he could do this indefinitely, which was likely true were it not for the inherent three day limit on Paul continuing to be Paul. After that he would... 
 
 The implication of it hit Aaren like a punch to the chest. He found himself stumbling back, leaning against another pillar as his legs tried to give way. Meanwhile, Paul had set Aaren's Prius back down carefully. `` I'm sorry, Ren, I'm very sorry. I did n't want to have to do it like this.'' 
 
 `` You're d... how did... you d...'' 
 
 `` Dead, Ren, I'm dead. Yes, it's real, I'm really on the way out, but we do n't have time for that. I need your help.'' 
 
 Aaren looked up at Paul as he moved closer. The last statement was familiar in its own way: Paul needed something from him. That he could deal with; that other thing could be dealt with later. `` What... what could you possibly need now,'' he asked, breath just above a whisper. 
 
 `` Your stepmother is missing, Ren.'' Paul's words filled Aaren with more dread, different. `` Your stepmother and... your half-brother.'' The last should have hit him with more shock, but right in that moment Aaren barely felt it. He had a half brother now, okay, sure, why not. He mentally filled that under `` shit I will feel mildly betrayed by for eternity'' and moved on. 
 
 `` What could you possibly need me for, Paul? The police handle missing persons, not the NTSB. I'm not even a real investigator, just an assistant.'' 
 
 `` Because the police wo n't believe me. Not with my record, not with the things I've been doing the past months. They'll lock me up, then bury the case when they bury me.'' He shifted a little. `` And I do n't care if you do n't have the title, Ren, you and I both know you have the talent.'' 
 
 Aaren grimaced, remembering some of the life that taught him those skills. First as a young accessory to Paul's many cons and schemes, then as an adult tracking down Paul and some of his friends when Aaren had changed from an accessory to a mark. Paul had tried to pass it off as a lesson in humility for `` the fancy college boy''. The judge had called it a Felony. 
 
 Aaren thought on that for a minute. Then he thought on Joanna, his stepmother, not a good woman exactly, but loving and loyal. She'd pulled Aaren out of some pretty bad situations over the years. If she was in trouble, Aaren owed it to her to get her out. As for his surprise half-brother, he could be eight years old at the most. 
 
 Aaren took a breath. Gradually he straightened, staring back at Paul, at the source of so much of his life's pain. And yet seeing him like this, less than three days left from being gone forever, he felt an emotion he'd buried deep in his soul stirring for the first time in a long time. 
 
 `` Alright, Paul. Come upstairs and tell me what you know.'' 
 
 
 
 
 
 

