by Leo King
“I don’t fucking care!” She shouted so loud, her voice reverberated. The bars rattled, and the birds outside flew away.
As the two men recovered, Sam shut her eyes and let out all she’d been bottling up. “This cursed life of mine has been a goddamn nightmare. I thought I could die if I got swept out into the Gulf, but no! I spent a year in that dark abyss. Do you have any idea what it’s like to drown, slip into a coma, then revive a few days later, only to drown again? It’s horrible. I would have stayed down there forever if not for some shrimper from Grand Isle. Imagine their surprise when a wasted-away, naked woman puked up water and mudbugs that were trying to eat her insides and stumbled off, mumbling like a nutcase.”
They both stared at her, horrified.
“So I wandered about aimlessly until Michael-fucking-LeBlanc’s ghost found me. He told me he’d throw everyone off my scent if I’d just take him to see his little sister. Of course, I have no money, and I can’t exactly reveal who I am, so I have to hobo across the South. I did things to survive that I never thought I’d do. By the time I got to her, I was a full-blown alcoholic.”
Sitting up, she put her elbows on her knees. “But Michael kept his word. After we helped Alexia, he made sure no one could find me. I don’t know how, and I don’t care. So I headed up here to the mountains. And everything was going great until I lost my temper. So, as you can imagine, I’m not keen on being Sam Castille anymore.”
“I understand how you feel,” Dr. Lazarus said. “I can’t imagine what you’ve gone through. However, I need to ask you something very important. Do you still have the silver pen?”
She snorted. “So that’s all you care about? Fine! I’ve got it hidden. Why do you ask?”
Aucoin, who had been mostly silent, said, “So long as that pen exists, Vincent can influence our world. We want to destroy it.”
That made her laugh hard. “You don’t think I haven’t tried? The damn thing is unbreakable. I’ve cut it, smashed it, burned it, frozen it. Not even a scratch!”
With a nod, Dr. Lazarus said, “Well, we want to try. Between myself and several colleagues, we have some ideas. And we want you to come with us, too.”
“Why the hell should I do that?”
He blinked. “Sam, a lot of people are dying. We could use your help.”
“Why the hell should I care?”
Now staring at her crossly, Aucoin asked, “Sam, what has happened to you?”
“What has happened to me? Are you fucking serious? Everything I have ever loved is gone. Michael, Rodger, and Richie are gone. I tried to care again with Meghan, and she’s gone. Countless people have died so I could live forever. My children are gone, and I can’t get pregnant ever again. Everything I touch turns to shit. The world would be better off without me!”
“Stop,” he said. “Just stop. You should listen to yourself. You’ve been given a gift people only dream about. Not only are you immortal, but you have a goddess inside you. You could do so much good in a world that really needs someone with your power.”
She just glared at him, tightening her fists.
“But you go ahead and pity yourself. I thought for sure that Sam Castille was a fighter who wanted to make everything right. I guess that was all bullshit. You may have the queen of the loa inside you, but you’re nothing but a wild animal.”
With a roar, she rushed to the edge of the cell faster than either man could blink. She growled, squeezing the bars until they squished in her hands. “You listen to me, you little shit! Don’t you ever presume for a second that you understand what I feel. I want to free Baron Samedi, I want to destroy the Knight Priory, and I want to stop all of this before it hits a downward spiral. But I… I…”
“You’re afraid of something bad happening again?” Dr. Lazarus asked.
She turned away, shedding her first tears in a long time. She wrapped her arms around herself.
“Sam, listen,” Aucoin said. “Someone once told me that no one can go it alone.”
A few stray tears rolled down her face. “Who said that? Rodger? Michael?”
“No one you know, but he was one of the bravest cops that ever lived. He chose to die instead of harming an innocent. He was right. We need to work together to stop Vincent and the Knight Priory.”
“Sam, I understand your caution,” Dr. Lazarus said. “I’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that nothing like Evergreen happens again. Will you hear me out?”
Wiping away her tears, she glanced at him, her bangs covering her face. “Yes.”
“I’m going to pay your bail. I want you to get cleaned up and have dinner with us. All you have to do is listen to what I say. If you don’t like it, you’re free to go.”
“So, a dinner meeting and that’s it?”
“That’s it.”
With a sigh, she said, “Fine. I’m not promising anything. But I’ll listen.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. Kyle, let’s go post Miss Castille’s bond.”
As they left, she peered after him in confusion. He called me “Your Majesty.” That’s two people now.
It took a few more hours for Sam to be bailed out and head back to Caleb’s. He and Chris, who were going over what they could sell to raise the money for her bond, were shocked. She hugged them both and briefly explained that some old friends had bailed her out and that she had to have dinner with them. Caleb voiced concern that they’d try to take her away, but she assured him that she’d be home before nighttime. It was five o’clock when she, completely clean and changed into a nice pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, hugged them both again, hopped on a dirt bike, and rode into downtown Chattanooga for dinner.
She met them at a local steakhouse, one of the nicer ones in town. A few of the locals pointed at her and whispered things like “Caleb’s tramp” and “white trash,” but she didn’t care. She had ceased giving a shit about how people viewed her a long time ago. And yet, the moment she heard the music inside the fancy restaurant, a part of her old self crept forward—one of the social elite. You can’t completely kill a part of yourself you grew up with, no matter how hard you try.
The host regarded her with disdain. “She’s with me,” Aucoin said. “We’ll go take our seat now.” Watching appreciatively, she followed him to a private booth where Dr. Lazarus was tasting a glass of white wine. His wheelchair rested in a corner.
Her eyes fell back on Aucoin as he helped her sit. I have to admit, Kyle looks good in a suit.
A few minutes later, a waiter presented her with a menu. It took her only a few moments to decide what she wanted. It was something she hadn’t eaten since before the fight at the wharf back in 1992. “I’ll have the filet mignon, medium rare, with a loaded baked potato and a broccoli-and-cheese casserole. Oh, and a glass of Inglenook 1990 Cabernet Sauvignon. Not a 1991. Don’t you dare give me a fucking 1991, or I will bite out your soul.”
She handed the waiter back the menu and smiled sweetly. “Thank you.”
After the waiter had hurried away, Aucoin said, “Lord, Sam. Do you have any manners left at all?”
Already scarfing down the complimentary rolls, she shrugged. “I still hold in my burps and farts. Does that count?”
He rolled his eyes and returned to nursing a glass of ginger ale.
“Sam, I know you’ve been through a lot, so it’s OK,” Dr. Lazarus said gently. “Just be yourself.”
“Well, thank you, Dr. Phillip Fucking McGraw. So, you said you wanted to talk to me about something?”
Dr. Lazarus gathered his thoughts. “Since your disappearance, the Knight Priory of Saint Madonna has gained considerable power. They are using the tkeeus in experiments like the one at Evergreen, and they’ve slowly been turning New Orleans into a place you’d read about in horror novels.”
“Like what stuff?”
Aucoin twirled his finger around. “Walking corpses. Haunted houses. Maniac killers with chainsaws. Fun times.”
“Just like Kyle says,” Dr. Lazarus said. “B
asically, while they can’t control the loa, they’re able to put them in people with the tkeeus. Vincent’s evil influence does the rest.”
“Huh,” she said, leaning forward. “I thought the Knight Priory didn’t believe in voodoo?”
“Sam, thanks to you, me, and Dixie, they now believe,” Aucoin said.
Sitting back, she said, “Unbelievable. But why hasn’t this been all over the media?”
“Because Caroline Saucier, who is a part of the Knight Priory, controls the media. Not just in New Orleans, but most of the Gulf South.”
“Not only that,” Dr. Lazarus said. “But high-ranking members of the United States government work with us to keep this kind of information from causing widespread panic.”
Suddenly, something Meyer had said from the night she escaped Evergreen made sense. “So, those missiles that hit Evergreen. That came from the president?”
“Correct,” he said. “When we determined that Evergreen was lost, we gave him the information, and he called the strike.”
She grunted. Things were once again complicated. “So, how do you guys all fit into this?”
Dr. Lazarus leaned forward. “I head up an organization, a privately funded one that works with the US government, especially the FBI. We were formed based on research from the new Bourbon Street Ripper case. Our job is to investigate and remove threats like what’s in New Orleans. So while the FBI investigates the members of the Knight Priory for illegal activity…”
“We’re trying to cut down their supernatural operations before it spreads out of control,” Aucoin finished.
Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead. “So, the Knight Priory has become a threat to America, and you guys are shutting it down.”
She was interrupted as her wine arrived. She sniffed it and then glared at the waiter. “This is a 1991.” As he began to stammer, she waved him off. “Whatever. I’ll drink it even though the grapes were crap that year. Just go.”
After he had served the salads and then left, she sipped her wine and grimaced at the bitter taste. “So what would you have me do?”
Dr. Lazarus crunched on a crouton. “Well, Sam, my organization has many layers of employees. There are agents, who do general missions and interface with the FBI; investigators, who gather intel on a situation; and operatives, who deal with the stronger paranormal threats. Kyle here is an investigator.”
Aucoin, who had dug right into his salad, said, “My detective skills are best used that way. Only people with extraordinary talents like yourself are made into operatives.”
She folded her arms. “Like that Meyer guy?”
Dr. Lazarus said, “Correct. He’s my first operative, actually.”
“And that’s what you want me to be?”
He nodded.
“And I’ll help you guys in New Orleans?”
He nodded again.
With a chuckle, she sipped more wine. “Hilarious. I go to great lengths to stay away from that city, and now I’m being told to go back with some secret organization.”
They remained completely serious.
Sighing, she asked, “So what do I get out of this? Other than the satisfaction of putting down the Knight Priory?”
Dr. Lazarus leaned back, very matter-of-fact. “I’ll erase your past. When this is over, you can go wherever you want and restart your life. I’ll do everything in my power to help you destroy the pen and Vincent. And, one more thing.”
“Yes?”
“I’ll help you find your children, Sam.”
Putting down the wine glass, she gazed at him as if she could see into his soul. “God as my witness, you had better not betray me, Dr. Lazarus.”
He shook his head. “Sam, I am one of the good guys. So many times in your life, I have failed to help you. Now, I will do everything I can for you and those children.”
Once more, she closed her eyes. After years of learning not to feel, of trying to forget her children, she was being given a chance to make it all right. OK. One more time. I’ll try just this one more time.
Opening her eyes, she said, “I’ll do it.”
With a smile, Dr. Lazarus nodded to Aucoin. “Give it to her.”
Aucoin, who seemed very relieved, slid something across the table to her. She instantly recognized it as her mother’s shoe charm, the one she hadn’t seen since her time in Tulane. “By the way, Sam, happy Mother’s Day.”
As she took it into her hands, feeling the melted plastic against her skin, Dr. Lazarus said, “And welcome to GEIST!”
Chapter 35
GEIST
Date: Monday, May 13, 1996
Time: 2:00 a.m.
Location: GEIST Headquarters
Southern Arkansas
“Welcome to GEIST headquarters, Miss Castille,” the tall, pale man said. He had white hair and wore a uniform, white gloves, and an officer’s hat. “I’m Assistant Director Abel.”
“Um, thanks. Just call me Sam.” She was still a bit distracted by the sudden turn her life had taken. The goodbye with Caleb and Chris had been mercifully short, with her only returning long enough to pack her few belongings into a duffel bag. Both had been devastated, as she’d known they would be, but she hugged them, kissed them goodbye, and promised to return one day if she could. They would have to wait. Her children needed her.
With the silver pen secured, she was put on a truck and driven south to the Atlanta airport. Within minutes of arriving, she was on a private jet to Shreveport, and then on another truck north into Arkansas. By the time they entered the underground GEIST facility, she had realized the enormity of Dr. Lazarus’s operation.
“So, what do you think?” Aucoin asked as Abel led them both through the loading bay. Several other trucks were being fueled up. Nearby, a group of uniformed men pushed the large metal crate containing the silver pen toward a door marked “Lab and Quarantine.”
Looking around, she sucked on her bottom lip. The moment she had entered the base, she had felt the ambient spirits pull back. “Well, the entire place is sterilized. It’s a bit annoying, like you just took away one of my senses. But, yeah, I’m impressed.”
Aucoin chuckled. “You can’t run an operation against the supernatural if your home base is open to attacks from them.”
“That is correct, Miss Cast—er, Sam,” Abel said. “The director, Dr. Lazarus, has worked hard to make GEIST safe. The electromagnetic field generator ensures that the only spirits or ghosts inside are the ones we allow.”
They walked through a hallway and then to an elevator, which had four buttons and a card reader. Abel swiped his badge, and the doors closed.
“How does he pay for this?” Sam asked.
“GEIST is fully funded by a private entity in Europe. The director can tell you more about it during your briefing tomorrow morning.”
She nodded and leaned against the wall of the elevator. She felt like she had just walked into The X-Files.
The elevator door opened to a well-decorated and comfortable hallway, complete with carpet and wood-paneled walls. Pointing at the décor, she said, “When did we get to the Hotel Monteleone?”
“These are the apartments for our operatives and administration. I’ll show you to yours,” Abel said.
She followed him out, but when Aucoin stayed on the elevator, she stopped. “Kyle, are you coming?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Only operatives and special personnel are allowed on this floor.”
“Oh, that’s bullshit,” she said, yanking him with her. “Abel, this guy is one of the few friends I have. He’s coming with me.”
Abel bowed respectfully. “If that is your wish, Sam. This way.”
He led her down the hallway to a room with a plaque reading “Operative #000.” Then he swiped his badge to unlock the door. Finally, he bowed again. “I suggest you get some rest. See you tomorrow morning, directly after breakfast.” He left without another word.
“Strange guy,” Sam said.
Aucoin shrugged. “A
bel is like most of the people in Dr. Lazarus’s inner circle. Creepy but well-intentioned. Just wait until you see his friend from New York. That guy is like a mummy.”
Then he motioned toward the door. “Do you want me to show you in?”
She pulled him inside. “Yes, dumbass. I don’t want to be left alone in this insane asylum until I feel safe.”
Despite all the fanfare, it was actually a pretty normal room, reminding her of a Holiday Inn. There was a queen-sized bed, a desk, a dresser with a television on top, and a wardrobe. An alcove to the side opened up to a vanity, and from there, a door led to the bathroom.
“A bit nicer than my room,” Aucoin said. “I have to bunk with a guy who snores like a whale.”
In spite of herself, she laughed, tossing her duffle bag on the bed. “Sounds terrible.” She spent a few minutes taking it in. While it didn’t compare to her old townhome, it was far better than any place she had lived in for years.
Leaning against a wall, Aucoin asked, “So, what do you think?”
“It’s nice.”
“I mean about GEIST.”
That question made her pause. She had learned that GEIST was short for Global Extermination Initiative of Supernatural Threats, and despite sounding like something that belonged in a comic book, it was a legitimate group. She had also learned that other forms of supernatural activity, besides just voodoo, were starting to surface around the world. She wondered if it was all because of her and Vincent.
She leaned on the wall next to him. “It’s OK. You’re sure these are the good guys, Kyle?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I was distrustful of them for a while, too. I mean, seriously, it sounds just so incredible. But the more I’ve seen these past few years, the more I realize that without GEIST, the world as we know it would be in serious trouble.”
Nodding back, she started taking off her clothes. She didn’t even realize she was stripping in front of Aucoin until he cleared his throat and said, “I should probably go.”
Quickly, she pulled her clothes back on. “Sorry! I’m just so used to no privacy or shame. These past few years… have changed me.”