The Blake Ghost

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The Blake Ghost Page 8

by H. P. Bayne


  Dez’s head nodded. “Wasn’t there, though. Hasn’t been there in years by the looks of it.” His head turned back to eye Sully. “He dead too?”

  Sully offered a nod of his own. “Yeah. A few years back.”

  Blake’s gaze shifted toward his window, and Sully suspected he saw something other than the glow from the distant city lights. “I figured I’d get a bottle and we’d get drunk together for old time’s sake. He wouldn’t recognize me like this, wouldn’t know this guy. But my old man, he never turned down a drink. Stranger shows up at his house with a twenty-six, he’d be my old man’s best friend inside of a minute. I wanted to get a few drinks down him, have a few myself, then spring it on him. Spring it on him good. He’s a big guy, but not nearly as big as this one I’m in now. If I’d been like this as a teenager, bet your ass he never woulda touched me. If he had, there wouldn’t’a been anything left of him for anyone to find.”

  “You want payback.”

  The head snapped toward Sully. “I want justice.” The moment of fury faded as quickly as it had come, sending Blake’s gaze once again toward the window. “Same thing you probably want from me. I got no idea even now if you’re really taking me to my family. You could be turning me in for something, all I know.”

  “I don’t want anything from you,” Sully said. “You were unfinished business for me, yeah, but it feels settled now. I was a little kid when I knew you, and I’d built you up in my head to be way bigger than you ever were. I’ve made some peace now.”

  Saying it felt true. Felt right. He’d gone to McCoy Falls harbouring that terrified child inside him. That child was no longer cowering or fearful. As he had with the ghosts, Sully had battled and conquered his fear.

  The freedom of it might have made him giddy except for the lingering threat to Dez. Sully could pull Blake out now, could hold him until they reached Edge Creek. But this felt more important, getting the answers he—and their client—needed.

  Maybe it was even important Blake be allowed to provide them. Sully didn’t care much about him, but if Blake could resolve a few things himself, maybe getting him to cross over would be simpler. In the end, it seemed the best option for everyone.

  “If your beef’s with your father, why torture the people at the house in McCoy Falls?” Sully asked.

  Blake gave a dry, humourless laugh. “I was stuck pacing that empty property for God knows how long, watching life go on around me. I watched block parties I couldn’t join, neighbours moving in and out, kids heading off to university, families getting together for holidays and barbecues. I had none of that. No one left. And I couldn’t go anywhere or do anything except wonder why my family was gone and I was left behind. You try existing like that and tell me how you’d make out.”

  Sully pictured it briefly, then stopped. The idea of it—of being trapped on the tiny patch of land where you and your loved ones had died while, all around you, the world went on as if you’d never existed—was nothing short of hell on earth.

  Blake wasn’t done. “When people built there, I knew the world really had moved on without giving two shits about me. I was still there, but no one knew or cared. It was my property. I hadn’t given it up, and they were intruding. I wanted them gone, and I tried to convince them to go. If nothing else, I wanted them to at least acknowledge my existence. The guy—Ciaran—he’s a stubborn asshole. So I started playing with them a little more.”

  “You were hurting her.”

  “As I said, I spent years barely existing, no control over anything. Suddenly, there are these people there, intruding on my space. Damn straight, I’m going to enjoy getting some power back. Anyway, I never really hurt her. Not much I can do anymore. Not before now, anyway.” He snorted and tugged at the cuffs, the metal clinking behind his back. “Not even now. It wasn’t a big jump from goading Ciaran into stuff to stepping into this guy I’m in. I didn’t figure getting out would be a problem.”

  Sully lifted a brow. He’d been right on that count. “Don’t worry. When the time comes, I can get you out.”

  “What, you some sort of exorcist?”

  “Not exactly, but I can control spirits.”

  Blake laughed, the sound mocking rather than amused. “Bull.”

  Sully focused on Blake’s spirit, turning this into both a test for himself and a teaching moment for Blake. He easily felt the edges of Blake’s bitter, angry energy—so different from Dez’s warmth—and gave it a solid tug. He felt it shift, pull ever so slightly free of Dez. Then he let it go, felt it slam backward, like a boulder tugged free of a hoist and re-ensnared by gravity. Dez’s body, held in Blake’s grasp, pressed backward toward the door, putting as much space as he could between himself and Sully.

  “What the hell are you?”

  Sully grinned. “Same as I’ve always been, only stronger. Lucky for you, it took me a while to really get a handle on my abilities. If I’d had this much power as a kid, you would’ve liked me a whole lot less.”

  It felt petty, but he allowed himself to temporarily revel in the other man’s fear, in this turning of the tides. Though he could forgive Blake, put his past behind him and find peace in all of it, it didn’t mean he couldn’t be at least a little immature about it. For someone who’d been forced into adulthood as a young child, a little immaturity now and again should be allowed.

  He gave Blake one final smirk, then settled back against the seat, into silence.

  12

  The light wasn’t yet visible when they arrived at the track at the site where the town of Edge Creek had once stood.

  The usual series of tire tracks flattening the snow on the approach marked the entrance to the crossing, and Eva had started to pull in when they noticed another vehicle parked there.

  Sully hadn’t thought of this, and experienced a moment of panic, trying to imagine how they’d be able to lug a handcuffed man to the tracks without anyone questioning them, let alone how he’d be able to complete what amounted to an exorcism and a handover of Blake to the Reaper. Unfortunately, the site—marked as it was by a ghostly, after-dark light—was popular among the ghost-hunting public. The fact recent events had connected deaths with this spot had only increased the fascination for many.

  “Damn,” Sully said.

  Eva pulled on her gloves and removed a small Maglite from the glove compartment. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve got it cased. Wait here with him.”

  Sully leaned toward her, his thoughts returning to what had happened the last time they’d been here, what Eva had to do. “Are you sure?”

  She turned her head, glancing from Sully to Dez and back again. “Damn sure.”

  Eva climbed out of the driver’s seat, then shut the door and headed toward the tracks, the car’s headlights guiding her. Sully watched until she disappeared, walking south along the track to where he assumed the ghost hunters were standing.

  Another unfortunate result of the delay was it had given Blake time to think. “Why the hell would my family be here, in the middle of nowhere? What the fuck are you playing at?”

  Sully opted for honesty. “They aren’t here, not exactly. There’s someone here who can help you find them.”

  It was all Sully had time for. A couple in their late teens came walking at a brisk clip around the corner and climbed into their car, Eva barely stifling a grin behind them.

  She dropped back in behind the wheel and reversed out, parking temporarily on the highway’s shoulder to allow the couple to similarly back out. The couple’s car pulled onto the highway and headed north, toward Kimotan Rapids.

  “Didn’t take much to convince them to leave,” Eva said. “They were already seriously spooked by the time I came around the corner at them. They both screamed like five year olds in an amusement park haunted house.”

  Sully managed a laugh.

  Eva turned to him with a smile. “And just so you know, I’m okay.”

  The tail lights having disappeared into the distance, Eva pulled back in, taking the sp
ot vacated by the couple. After climbing from the driver’s side, she circled the car and opened the rear door, where she could release Dez from the back seat. Sully stayed put behind him, intending to give him a push out if need be.

  He didn’t need to. Blake, though far from convinced, was still willing to give this a try. Given what he’d explained about his existence on this side of the afterlife, Sully figured nearly anything else had to be a better alternative. He climbed out with only a little assistance due to the cuffs.

  Once all three were out of the car, they made for the track ahead, Dez between them.

  “Did you see if the light’s out?” Sully asked.

  “Wasn’t yet,” Eva said. “Either they didn’t know how to summon it or they were too scared to try. My money’s on the latter.”

  At the rail line, Sully stood between the tracks and clanged the solid handle of Eva’s Maglite against one of them three times. Then he straightened, handed it back and waited.

  It didn’t take long. Ahead, in the distance, a bright light snapped on.

  “Better make sure it’s not a real train,” Eva said. “Check the tracks.”

  Sully removed a glove, then crouched again to lay his palm against the iron. He could feel no vibration, he knew to play it safe anyway. He’d listen for the sound of an approaching train and step away if he heard anything.

  But as the light grew—far more rapidly than a regular train—he knew he’d succeeded in summoning the Reaper.

  Eva—and normally Dez—would see the light only. For Sully, as the light reached them, it was something altogether different. He saw a full train, one of those old-fashioned types from around the end of the nineteenth century. It coasted to an unnaturally silent stop, no squealing brakes or hiss of steam to match the light cloud surrounding it. A muted glow emanated from the windows, enough Sully could make out the forms of people inside.

  “What the hell?” Blake said. “What is this?”

  Sully didn’t reply, his focus now on a lean male figure stepping from the nearest carriage. Clothed head to toe in black and wearing a wide-brimmed hat, he had the appearance and bearing of a Wild West lawman—and Sully suspected that was exactly what he had been in life. He moved gracefully and with purpose, one hand hovering near an old-style revolver on his right hip. Sully hadn’t noticed it before, and wondered what its use would be against either the living or those who were already dead.

  A pair of eerie, coal-black eyes peered into Sully’s as the Reaper reached him. Beside Sully, Dez—still in Blake’s control—shuddered and took a step back. The Reaper’s eyes followed.

  “I see you’ve got a problem here,” he said.

  Sully had heard him speak before, but was nonetheless as surprised this time as last. His entire life, he’d never heard the dead speak, not unless they were possessing a living person or he was near death himself. There was something different about this spirit. Maybe it was because Sully shared a very similar power, maybe it was because the Reaper was something beyond a typical ghost. Whatever it was, conversation was a good thing.

  Even if one’s conversational companion was Death personified.

  “His name’s Jim Blake, and he’s possessing my brother,” Sully explained.

  “And you want me to pull him out for you.”

  “I can do that myself. I just need you to take him from there.”

  The Reaper’s lips quirked up on one side. “Not my job tonight.”

  Sully’s stomach dropped. All this time, he’d relied on this moment—on the Reaper—to free Dez. Dread replaced hope. “What?”

  The other side of the Reaper’s mouth lifted, creating a full smile. “After more than one hundred thirty-five years of riding the rails, I’ve finally got myself something of a promotion. Means I get to see some new scenery. Got myself what you might call some trainees. Pretty sure you know them.”

  Two figures appeared out of the mist behind the Reaper, both significantly taller and broader than he was.

  The first thing Sully saw clearly was copper hair.

  He pressed a hand to his mouth as their faces came into view. His heart jumped, pounding wildly against his ribs as if it wanted to get to them as badly as the rest of him did.

  Because the Reaper was right. He did know them.

  Flynn and Aiden Braddock.

  “How?” Sully asked. It was all he could get out.

  “Things are going on in the spirit world, Sullivan,” the Reaper said. “Might be a war’s brewing. More and more, souls are refusing the light and sticking around down here. Means more reapers will be necessary to find them and haul them in—the bad apples, anyway. Your dad was a lawman with a keen sense of justice. Aiden would have been had he lived long enough. Powers that be gave them the option, and they agreed to help. They’ll work under me a while, till they’ve got a good understanding for the job. For now, the train will be more theirs than mine, freeing me up to hunt. Gotta say, I’m kinda partial to the arrangement.”

  Though Sully was listening, his eyes had yet to leave Flynn’s. Both Flynn and Aiden wore warm smiles, and a peace—one Sully had seen when they’d crossed over a couple of years ago—remained firmly in their expressions.

  “Can I talk to them?” Sully asked.

  “Of course you can, son,” Flynn said.

  A breath of cold, winter air caught in Sully’s throat. He hadn’t heard Flynn’s voice in so long, he’d started to worry he’d forgotten it. Hearing it now, it was as if the entire world had disappeared, leaving just them.

  “God, I miss you so much,” Sully said.

  Flynn’s smile widened as he shifted his head slightly downward, in Sully’s direction. “There’s nothing to miss. I’ve never left you boys or your mother or Dez’s girls. I’ve always been nearby.” His eyes moved to Aiden. “We both have.”

  Aiden beamed. “Now we’ll be around a little bit differently.” He turned to Dez. The smile disappeared and his eyes narrowed, the greens of his irises suddenly glowing an unnatural black. “Once we get that bastard out of my brother.”

  Sully held up a hand to stop him. “Leave it to me.”

  He turned to Dez. His eyes were large, fixed firmly on the two copper-headed spirits, his expression unreadable. Fear dwelled there, clearly Blake’s. But something else floated beneath, something truly belonging to Dez.

  Joy.

  Sully closed the distance to him. “Jim, it’s time.”

  “My family.” It was anyone’s guess as to who had said the words, Dez or Blake.

  The Reaper took a shot at it. “They’ve crossed over. They’ve got work to do to make things right, and so will you, but you’ll be together.”

  Blake nodded. “Okay. Okay, good.” Then he turned back to Sully. “For what it’s worth, I wish I could’ve been different.”

  “Me too,” Sully said. “For what it’s worth, I forgive you.”

  Then he pulled, dragging Blake’s energy from Dez. He focused harder than he ever had before, fighting his natural inclination to suck the energy into himself. This time, once Blake was in the open—leaving Dez collapsed onto his hands and knees in the snow, Eva next to him—Sully worked on pushing out at the same time.

  A moment later, he felt release, as if someone had taken a massive weight from him. Aiden had taken charge of Blake and now guided him toward the train.

  Blake cast one more glance back, wide, worried eyes locking onto Sully’s.

  Sully nodded.

  Blake nodded back and allowed Aiden to escort him onto the train.

  Flynn, when Sully turned, was kneeling next to Dez in the snow, a hand on his back. What Dez felt, if anything, Sully didn’t know, but as he got closer, he heard wracking sobs coming from him. Sully closed the rest of the distance and dropped down between Eva and Flynn.

  He placed a hand against Dez’s head and gently tried to coax it upward. “Dez? Are you okay? Talk to me, man.”

  “He’s okay,” Eva said. Her smile backed up her claim. “I mean, he’s re
ally okay. Believe me, this is him super happy. He said he saw his dad and brother.”

  Flynn peered at Sully. “He saw us because Blake saw us. I doubt he can anymore. Tell him we’re still here.”

  The Reaper’s voice sounded behind them. “Flynn? One day soon, you’ll be able to tell him yourself.”

  Sully jumped as the Reaper’s hand settled on his shoulder—a touch he felt physically.

  “Reapers move between worlds,” the spirit explained. “Because of that, we can become corporeal when we need to.”

  Though the hand remained, the feel of it faded. Corporeal to spirit, just like that.

  “Flynn?” he said. “We need to go. You can return soon.”

  Flynn nodded and stood, giving Sully a smile. “Tell Dez and Eva and your mom and Kayleigh how much we love them. And I love you too, kiddo. Thanks for taking care of your brother.”

  “I love you too,” Sully said. “As for taking care of Dez, it’s what I do best.”

  Flynn beamed. “Damn straight.”

  Then he turned and followed the Reaper back to the train.

  13

  The train faded and the light with it. Sully returned to Dez and Eva.

  They were back on their feet, Dez’s tear-filled eyes fixed to the spot where, moments ago, their dad had stood. Eva’s arms were wrapped around his barrel of a chest, and he had one long arm around her, holding her to him. His other now snagged Sully and hauled him in too.

  They stood there for a solid minute or two, a group hug that restored some needed warmth. A light snow began to fall, the night cold biting into exposed flesh. Sully’s tears froze on his cheeks. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was this, standing here with two of the people he loved more than anything in this world, sharing the knowledge Flynn and Aiden were more fully back in their world—in a manner of speaking, anyway.

  Dez at last gave a shuddering sigh, releasing Sully and Eva before scrubbing at his own face.

  “God, I’m so cold,” came a partially muffled statement from behind his hands.

 

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