Chapter 5: Faces
George stood in the bright sun, looking at the light covering the many acres that made up the graveyard she'd been buried in years before. She'd stopped at her own stone moments earlier to look at the flowers her mother had left. Reggie had lived up to her word, she hadn't returned, and George was glad to know she'd moved on. It wasn't like she actually had to accept George's death, more like her undeath. At the same time she'd worked hard to be good and hadn't visited her sister or mother since she'd been assigned her new position, not that one month of not checking up on them was really that
long a period of time.
She wasn't there to look at her own stone though. This was something different. She'd been ordered to pick up one of the new slayers that had sprouted up in that last battle of Sunnydale and deliver her to her new reaping group. Apparently the Sunnydale kids hadn't gone to Cleveland and had ended up in Seattle instead. Apparently theirs was George's new jurisdiction, and when it was time for a reaper to be made, she got to play escort. Thankfully it was just the group of slayers and helpers, aside from that they got to hold onto their accidental deaths assignments.
The group there for the girl was small, she'd been one of the girls that had escaped the big battle. From what George had been able to find out, she didn't have family besides the self-proclaimed Scoobies.
"Are you sure they won't recognize me?" the girl asked.
"They shouldn't," George told her, "but they're special, so, you never know. Ready?"
"Before Sunnydale, when they told me I'd be the one girl and all that, I used to dream of a funeral like this," she replied. "I wanted my parents to be here, I didn't want to be meeting them on the other side. How long will it be?"
"Don't know," George shrugged, wondering just how she'd gotten this job, first Anya, now this.
"It's sunny out."
"Yeah, it is."
"Do I have to be ready?"
"No, but it's happening with or without you."
"Ok. Let's go."
"How did you know Abigail?" a short blond asked them after the services had finished. There was a suspicious quality in her tone, and it was obvious she wasn't the only one looking for the answer.
"School," Abigail, but not quite Abigail, responded, haltingly.
"Yeah, Annie here wanted to say goodbye, when we saw the obituary in the paper," George explained, unsteady at lying as always.
"What time is my ride getting here?" Abigail asked George, not wanting to stay there any longer.
"Just a couple minutes now," George said, looking at her watch and seeing it was about the time she'd agreed upon with the head of Abigail's assigned team.
"I think I'll go meet them in the parking lot," Abigail told her, giving her a quick hug. "It was nice seeing you."
"It was good seeing you too," George said, hugging her awkwardly back, understanding the attempt to keep cover for what it was.
"Bye," she waved, before walking off quickly through the rows of gravestones.
George shook her head, wishing the Sunnydale group had been nice enough to have a funeral that wasn't in the graveyard. Seeing where you were buried was an unsettling feeling and Abigail was still very young.
"That was her, wasn't it?" a taller brunette asked, joining them quickly.
"I don't know what you're talking about," George lied, offering them an awkward look attempting towards smiling but ending somewhere near a grimace.
"Sure," the blond shook her head.
"Yo, B, should we put the pressure on her? Find out what they've done with Abigail?" the brunette joked grimly.
"You were in Sunnydale," B
stated rather than asked.
"I'm sorry," George said, knowing there was nothing else she could say. "I should go."
She departed quickly, knowing that everyone gathered was watching her. They'd memorized her face, and they would eventually learn what she was there for. They'd come to hate her, fear her, and maybe try to hurt her. She hoped it would take a while. She didn't like being the bad guy. It wasn't like she'd chosen to be a reaper.