When he came back

I recently caught myself thinking… Ever since he came back, I’ve been trying to remember what he used to be like. I’m trying to grasp the subtle difference. The color of his hair, his eyes, his scent, the stubble on his cheeks, the dry skin on his fingers — all this has not gone away. All our common habits, words, memories, jokes are in place. But the smile had disappeared. Another emotion took its place. But not sadness… Something else.

He came back at night. I was already restless. Staying late at work was a common occurrence. But every time he managed to warn me — with a call, a chat message, a voice mail… And then he was invisibly present online. Funny. The green circle next to the avatar is lit, which means everything is in order. It’s only now that I realize how stupid it all is.
An hour passed, then another… There were no messages. Several times I tried to write it myself, but stopped. Perhaps some kind of meeting with his annoying directors. These are people for whom, in principle, there is no concept of the end of the working day or a day off. They live at work and want everyone else to do the same. And most likely, they don’t even understand what could be different.
In any case, when I was already seriously worried and decided to write, I suddenly discovered that there was no connection at all. Neither the Internet nor the mobile network was working. All my chats and channels have gone silent. The connection icon was spinning aimlessly in the messengers. Probably some kind of global glitch… an accident. So I decided to calm down, but the feeling of anxiety only intensified. The thought kept spinning in my head—something happened… something happened… something happened… and when I looked out the window, I even said it out loud. Despite the late hour, there was still an unusually bright glow in the sky. The houses and trees on the opposite side, the exit from the courtyard, and the playground are covered with a vaporous haze, which usually forms during a sudden thaw. But there was no sign of a thaw. Snow was falling from a gray, slightly shimmering sky. It hid the tracks of people and cars, covering them with a white shroud. So that there would be nothing left but that smooth whiteness. And no one…
The doorbell rang, hoarse and muffled, as if it had broken through the static, and I let out a sigh of relief. Without asking anything, I pressed the button and started to open the door. A minute later, he was standing in the doorway. Wearing only an office suit. Without warm clothes. All covered with snow.
— What happened? — Where have you been?
— Just… walking.
— Walking? What about the car? And where’s your coat?— the questions poured out of me one after another, but he, without reacting in any way, silently hobbled into the room and sat down on the sofa. There was something strange about his gait. Obviously, every move was difficult.
— Oh my God… What a fool I am! You’re falling off your feet… Lie down. Have a rest. Tell me everything tomorrow.
I pushed his head back against the pillow and began to pull off his shoes. Intended exclusively for the office or car salon, they are now completely hardened by frost.
— I’m not tired…— he replied, not resisting my actions and laying down on the couch, as it is, in his clothes. Automatically, I touched his forehead, assuming it should be hot, but all I felt was an icy chill.
— You’re freezing all over! Now! Wait…
I hurriedly took an old warm blanket out of the closet, filled a hot heating pad, and applied it all to my patient. I sat down next to him.
— And don’t argue with me. You need to rest.
However, he did not even think to argue, but lay motionless under the blanket and, without blinking, stared at the ceiling at the flickering yellowish light. Soon I fell asleep right in the armchair.

When I woke up, at first I didn’t understand if it was dawn outside or not. The same haze and yellowish glow in the sky. The couch was empty. Only a crushed pillow on the armrest and a blanket thrown back. I looked at my watch, got up to pull the curtains wider, and screamed in surprise.
He was lying on the floor, right under the window, curled up and with his back against the radiator. Absolutely motionless and with his eyes open, staring into the empty twilight of the room.
— Oh, my God! What’s wrong with you? Are you feeling ill?— I touched his head with my hand again and felt the unusual cold again.
— No. I’m fine,— his voice sounded very calm, but distant.
— I think it’s worth going to the pharmacy after all… – I reasoned out loud, although I wasn’t sure which medicine I should buy.
— No, not really. He stood up abruptly and looked at me intently.— Nothing is needed anymore. And you… it might be dangerous there…
is it dangerous? What kind of nonsense is this?
He grabbed my arm, as if trying to hold me back by force.
— They don’t want to do any harm. They don’t want anything at all. They’re just scared, like animals… or like children.
— Who are they?
— People like me… the Risen.
Either from his icy fingers, or from his words, I was covered with goosebumps.
— Who?
He stared at me, and for a moment it was almost a normal look.
— Don’t you get it yet? It is foolish to deny this fact. I died.
Amazed not so much by the answer as by the ease with which it was said, I just stared in silence and blinked my eyes. And then, unable to find anything smarter, I suggested:
— Well… I’ll go and make us some tea?
He nodded. It seems that when he realized that I was definitely not going anywhere now, he immediately calmed down and became detached and melancholic again, and his gaze was peaceful and empty.
With the same look, he stirred sugar in a mug for a long time, then drank slowly for a long time, examining the pattern on the kitchen oilcloth.
— Why did everything happen like that? I finally couldn’t stand it.
— I don’t know,— he shrugged, but he answered so quickly and casually, as if he was expecting a question or just thinking the same thing.— Something happened outside. Something has changed… in the air. I woke up and felt that some kind of force was forcing me to get up. I got up… and came.
— That’s not what I’m talking about… Why did you die?
This time he thought about it.
— Don’t you remember? — I adjusted it.
— No. I remember,— the voice was filled with longing.— I’m tired of living. I stopped the car. Got out of it. I lay down in the snow. And fell asleep.
I looked at him with sincere incomprehension.
— But why? Surely there must be a reason? After all, you have everything… an apartment, a car, a job…
— Yes. There must be a reason for everything. But at some point, I realized that I had no reason to. There is no reason to go to work. There is no reason to leave it. There is no reason to fall asleep. There’s no reason to wake up. A person must have a goal, otherwise… There is no difference. He turns into nothing. So there was nothing holding me back.
— Nothing… And me too?
He looked at me apologetically.
— Well, I came…

It was not easy to get used to the idea that a man I had known for many years was now dead. Externally, he has not changed at all, without showing any signs of decomposition that frighten me. Apparently, something really unusual was happening in the world. The phone and Internet still haven’t been restored. A yellowish haze flickered outside the window. Sometimes screams and groans could be heard from somewhere, either from the street or from behind the walls. It couldn’t help but frighten me, but he remained indifferent, and looking at his calmness, I also calmed down.
Complaining about the confusion in his memories, he nevertheless quickly found his home clothes, changed his clothes, arranged a place for himself near the radiator and sat down to read a book. It’s a strange occupation. Not only because of his current condition, but also because he had never read before. At least, so passionately and purposefully.
— Aren’t you going to the office tomorrow?— I asked the usual question, which turned out to be stupid.
— No. That’s not what I died for,— he replied reasonably, without looking up from the pages.
— It makes sense. It’s hardly necessary to be dead… You said it was dangerous outside. But I’m going to have to leave… And besides, I do not know if it is possible to leave you alone…
— I can be left alone. I’m dead, not small,— he put down the book.— But you shouldn’t go anywhere yet. Everything is changing there. Let everything settle down…
— Is everything changing?
— Most of the people who have ever lived are already dead. Do you think the world where they will be resurrected can be the same?
— Are there… many of them?
— A lot. And there will be more every day. About two point seven times every day. As they say…
— Who’s talking? What are you talking about? We’re completely isolated here… Nothing’s working! I protested, ostentatiously waving my smartphone.
— They’re talking. Dead voices. Don’t you hear? Don’t you hear… Everything here is filled with them. I try to distract myself with a book…
In the semi-darkness of our apartment, in the almost absolute silence, his explanations seemed like some kind of incoherent ramblings of a madman, but I nevertheless clarified:
— And what are they talking about?
— About various things… they are looking for relatives. They moan and complain of pain. They’re philosophizing about some kind of abstruse nonsense… Like an online chat. They keep talking and talking. My head swells.
With a displeased look, he picked up the book again, intending to continue reading.
A car with a siren quickly sped down the empty street. From behind the curtain, I saw the flashing lights of a police armored car receding. After a while, the distant sounds of gunfire could be heard. It looked like it really wasn’t very safe outside. Feeling more and more hungry for information without networking, I turned on music on my laptop and began washing dishes, quietly glancing at the person who was once close to me.
Previously, it was impossible to take it away from the iPhone. Correspondence, endless flipping through the feed of posts, periodic chuckles at comments and memes… How unusual it is to see him now leisurely flipping through the pages. Perhaps because of their constant voices from beyond the grave, the dead are less likely to communicate with each other. Or maybe someone who understands life is in no hurry?

The flickering light in the sky began to weaken gradually. The yellowish haze no longer hid the facades of the neighboring houses, but only spread thickly over the ground. All sounds on the street disappeared. The windows opposite lit up in the dark with multicolored warm lights. It was almost a normal, quiet night.
The fear of realizing that I was in the same apartment with a dead body was repeatedly replaced by skepticism. Yes, he was completely cold and behaved strangely. He hasn’t eaten anything for the second day. He just drank hot water and sat by the radiator. But is that enough? Maybe it’s just some kind of disease. Mental. Nervous breakdown or something… it’s good that he’s not aggressive. As evening approached, he moved to a spread-out sofa, lay down along it with his eyes open and lay motionless.
Having gathered my resolve, I went over, sat on the bed and carefully lay down next to it, on the side where I usually slept, and began to carefully observe. Not a single muscle moved on his face. His chest didn’t rise with every breath. The eyes froze.
— Are you really dead?— I managed to get out of myself, fighting the lump that formed in my throat.— Maybe it’s not too bad?
— Really,— he replied, barely moving his lips.
— It can’t be…
— Still not reconciled to this idea?— There was a hint of mockery in his words.— If it makes it easier for you, I can blink more often. I forget to do it.
In some desperate rush, I pulled back the edge of the blanket and pressed my ear to his chest, trying to hear his heartbeat. He had no heartbeat. But he was there. Here he is… watching. Says…
— Are you sure?— a familiar voice called out from the twilight of the grave, making me recoil from fright.
— But that’s impossible! What for? It’s all so pointless!— I exclaimed, trying not to cry.
He turned his head to me.
— Are there many who are looking for meaning while they live? Or if they are even thinking about it?
— I don’t know… Probably not. And you?
— And now I have no other choice… I can only die once. There’s nothing left. Just think and look for meaning.
There was a long pause, interrupted only by the occasional mechanical movement of his eyelids.
— Do you think it was worth it? I asked seriously when the silence became unbearable.
— But for some reason we were all raised… Maybe it’s just to make us think? If so… It was worth it.
Overcoming my disgust, I suddenly pressed my lips to his and kissed him, feeling the cold and dry flesh. And then, settling my cheek back against his lifeless chest, I whispered.
— I love you anyway… Do you understand?
— Yes.
— And how do you feel?
— It’s warm. And the light. You can’t see, but it’s blinding bright all the time. Even now. And your tear is glowing too,— with a cold finger, he brushed away a drop that was hanging on my eyelash. I couldn’t help but smile. How can he see in the pitch dark?
— And your smile is glowing too,— he added.
— Are you sure you’re not going anywhere else?— I asked the question for some reason.
— No.
— Then let’s go to sleep.
— I don’t need to sleep now. But I want to sleep. So let’s go to sleep,— he agreed and gently put his hand on my head, as he had done many times before.— Tomorrow we can go to the park and play snowballs.
— But we didn’t do that when you were… alive.
— That’s exactly why.