Back From Hell (Revenant Files Book 1)

by D'Artagnan Rey

  “Well, the day they flooded back to Earth—technically, it’s the week since time works a little wonky here,” Vic corrected, took his last cigar out, and lit it. “Back in eighteen ninety-eight. A few other parades and parties celebrate ghosts crossing the plains, one for the first one to do it—some Chinese guy about twelve thousand years ago—a couple for Halloween and Dia de los Muertos. Those are holdovers from the guys who can’t let go of their lives. Honestly, ghosts don’t need a big reason to throw a party.”

  Johnny walked out of the alley to where a stream of multi-colored ghosts in clothes from various eras danced down the street. Vendors sold items, food, and copious amounts of drink as large floats and supernatural constructs moved along the large roads. “They don’t need a reason to hold back either.”

  Vic blew a plume of smoke out and shrugged. “Hey, you only live once, right?”

  The young detective responded with a dry, sarcastic laugh as he pushed through the crowded street to a plaza where many were having a meal and chatting about the event. “I don’t think anyone here seems too interested in what’s going on in New Orleans. Or they are at least distracted enough to not worry about it.”

  “Ghosts are good about that.” His partner tapped his shoulder. “But that guy over there is eyeballing us fairly hard.”

  A man was seated alone at a table under a large umbrella. An odd purple mist surrounded him, but whether for decoration or the festivities was unclear. He was dressed in a nice suit in a blend of black and rich purples and long royal-purple feathers emerged from his collar. His top hat was drawn low but not enough that bright eyes weren’t visible under the shadow.

  Johnny studied his face. The guy wasn’t a skeleton like most of the ghosts around them but almost appeared so. He had black skin on both his face and hands and had painted his face with a glowing ink that gave it the appearance of a skull. He smiled and beckoned to them.

  “Should…uh, should we go say hi?” he asked and looked at Vic. “He seems friendly, I guess, but kind of gives me the skeevies.”

  His partner shrugged and puffed on his cigar as he wandered closer. “Hey, we came to get information. We probably have to talk to some freaks anyhow so might as well start strong.”

  The young detective sighed and followed him. They approached the mysterious man’s table and he pointed at two chairs in front of him. “I’m so glad you got my invitation,” he said with a wide smile and a notable creole accent. “Come, have a seat. Let’s have a chat, hmm?”

  “Your invitation?” Johnny asked as he pulled a chair back. “That’s what you call staring at someone from the other side of the plaza?”

  “Didn’t you get my message?” He frowned for a moment.

  “Were you expecting us?” Vic shrugged. “We didn’t get a fancy letter if that’s what you’re asking.”

  The man leaned back, still frowning as he swirled his drink in his hand. “You didn’t get my message and you still showed up here. It seems fate is being kind to me for once in a long, long time.” His smile returned. “Well then, gentleman, let’s not let this good moment go to waste, eh? I hear you’ve been having a wild time in New Orleans.”

  “You’ve certainly heard a lot about us,” the ghost detective replied a little suspiciously.

  “Certainly.” He chuckled and sipped his drink. You guys attract attention. A rather interesting pair, are you not?”

  “Sure, but we’re only fads,” Johnny responded. “At least for now. But I think this conversation is getting off on the wrong foot.”

  The stranger raised an eyebrow as he stroked his chin. “You think so? Why is that?”

  The young detective held a finger up. “For one thing, you seem to know a fair amount about us and we know nothing about you.”

  Vic leaned against the table. “We’re not saying anything about your overall hosting skills, but introducing yourself is fairly common.”

  The man continued to smile but it had shrunk a little. “That’s true, but I can’t say I’m a common kind of guy.” He slid his hand into his jacket and retrieved a small box. “Besides, I didn’t want to drag this on too long. I only wanted to say I’m a fan of what you’re doing and wanted to help.” He placed the box on the table and slid it forward.

  The partners stared at it. “Help with what, exactly?” Johnny asked.

  “Isn’t it obvious?” The man shrugged. “With the problem in New Orleans.”

  “At least one person seems to care around here.” The young detective picked the box up and examined it.

  With a dry laugh, the stranger nodded. “Oh yes, indeed, my friends. I care very much about the city and about that demon who is running around there.”

  “So it is a demon?” Vic asked and tilted his head toward the stranger as he took the cigar out of his jaw.

  The man shrugged and dug in his jacket again for a cigar. “I was being more metaphorical, although given the realm we are in, perhaps I should curb that.” He raised a finger and a green flame burst out of the tip that he used to light the cigar. “The Axman…he’s a tricky little bastard, that one. Although he might be the main problem, he ain’t the cause of it.”

  “We’re thinking it’s a keeper,” the ghost detective ventured. “But we have no idea who.”

  In reply, their contact nodded and blew out a large billow of smoke, certainly more than a cigar could normally provide. “It seems you are on the right track then. Good.” He stretched his hand through the cloud of smoke and tapped the box. “This will help you to bring an end to this chaos. Use it wisely.”

  Johnny looked at the box and opened it to reveal an odd bullet. It looked like it was made of bone but an eerie glow beneath told him it was more than merely unusual. “What is this? Where did you get it?”

  The stranger was almost obscured by the smoke when he took another long drag. “That’s not for you to be concerned about, my friend. But don’t waste it. They aren’t easy to make.”

  “Make?” Vic frowned. “You made this? It doesn’t look like something any ghost can make.”

  “That would be true.” The man laughed loudly and it echoed around the plaza. “Very true.” The smoke seeped from his mouth as he spoke and he composed himself and began to disappear into it. “Also, I would make sure that you fire it, Johnny. It will work better. Ghosts trying to hold it…well, it doesn’t turn out pretty.” The smoke thickened even further so only his silhouette was now visible. “I wish I had more for ya, but that’s how things are right now. End this madness. I’ll be watching.”

  “Watching?” Johnny asked and thrust his hand into the smoke. “I’ve had enough of this sneaking around shit. Who are you?” His hand grasped nothing. He waved it around to disperse the smoke but the stranger was gone. Disgruntled, he leaned back in his chair and stared at the bullet. “Vic, you’ve spent more time in this place than I have. Is it always this weird?”

  His partner put his cigar back in his mouth and puffed a few times before he nodded. “I can’t tell if I’m surprised by that or bored. That should be your answer, kid.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The doorknob jiggled but was rusted and hard to turn so Johnny kicked it open and they left Limbo. They stepped into an abandoned factory and he dusted his jacket off while the ghost floated around. “Well, it’s better to end up here than a gas station bathroom, right?”

  “I feel like I’ll get tetanus merely looking at all this,” the young detective bemoaned as he scowled at the rusted railing. “What now?”

  Vic took the cigarette pack out and opened it to find it empty. “We need to restock.” He sighed, crumpled it, and put it into his jacket pocket. “It wasn’t a fruitful investigation. Talking to a hundred monkeys would have been better than a hundred drunk ghosts.”

  Johnny retrieved the box given to them by the stranger. “Now that you have had some time to think it over, what do you think about this?” he asked and opened it to look at the bullet. “Do you think this is human bone?”


  The ghost detective floated closer and studied it. “It’s bleached if it is. There is something about it, though.” He reached down to pick it up and the bullet glowed with purple light as he inched closer. Quickly, he yanked his hand away and hissed in surprise and pain. “What the hell?”

  “What’s wrong?” his partner asked and shut the box hastily. “Wait—did that hurt you?”

  Vic looked at his hand for a moment. “Yeah… Yeah, it did.” He shook his hand. “I almost forgot what that felt like. It burned like a son of a bitch.”

  “Well, I guess that means it isn’t a placebo, at least. I wonder why it didn’t hurt you in Limbo?”

  He shrugged and leaned against the railing. “Maybe it reacts differently now that we’re topside.” He sighed and scratched his head. “We might have the means to take him down but do you feel like we’re being played?”

  Johnny frowned as he folded his arms and leaned against the wall. “Maybe. I think we’re pawns in someone’s game but we’re on the right side.”

  “I was hoping we were at least knights or rooks.” The ghost chuckled darkly.

  “It doesn’t exactly sit right but so far, the ‘investigation’ isn’t proving very fruitful. Until now, even if we found the guy, we didn’t have a plan to eliminate him. And I think the last couple of run-ins with those giant creeps have proven that normal tactics probably won’t work.”

  The ghost turned to him. “You mean where we simply shoot them until they are obliterated?”

  He nodded. “The last one required an ether bomb to get rid of it. I’m not sure how many of those are lying around.”

  His partner remained silent for a time and tapped a finger against the rail. “What we need to do is get him out in the open,” he stated finally. “According to that dying soul at the bar, he might only have one henchman left, right?”

  “Maybe not even that, although I’m sure he could get more,” he replied. “It makes me worried that he’ll go dark and build his squad up again before coming back harder.”

  “Then we need to think of something fast to make sure that doesn’t happen.”

  “Do you have any ideas?” Johnny asked as his phone vibrated. He took it out and looked at the new text. “It’s Marco. He and Valerie are finished at the market. They want to meet us and show off the wares they got for us.”

  “It works for me.” The ghost nodded and pointed to the stairs. “I’ll continue to think it over on the way. Do we have a destination?”

  The young detective strode to the stairs, his attention still on the text. “Val sent coordinates. It looks like a field in the middle of nowhere but fortunately, we already seem to be in nowhere so it’s only a couple miles aw—” The flooring beneath him began to groan and snap. He froze for a moment until it settled.

  He looked irately at Vic, who simply shrugged. “What do you want me to do about it? Hold your hand?”

  Johnny frowned and hugged the walls as he descended the stairs cautiously. “It would certainly make a stupid story. The last great hope for New Orleans dies dicking around in a dilapidated factory.”

  Vic chuckled. “True, but would make for a funny one in Limbo.”

  The partners, despite having to walk, were the first to arrive. The sun was beginning to set when Valerie’s car pulled up and she and the siblings got out, Marco holding a suitcase.

  “Good evening, gentleman!” he said cheerfully as he placed the case on the trunk of the car. “Do you want to come and view my wares?”

  Vic chuckled as they approached. “When did he become a carnival barker?”

  Johnny shrugged. “Maybe he gets commission.”

  The young man opened the suitcase and removed two dark guns. “These are exorcist mark three’s. One is for Val.” He tossed her one. “And one for you, Johnny.” He handed the other to him and the young detective examined it. He ejected the magazine and peered at a glowing gray square inside. “While exorcist is a good name, I have to wonder why they needed to make a third version if they lived up to their name.”

  “These exorcize harder?” Vic quipped and winced when his partner pointed the magazine at him. “That’s almost pure ether.”

  “They are based on Agency weapons,” Valerie informed them as she checked the sights on hers. “Well, reverse-engineered from blueprints that were ‘borrowed’ by a more illicit organization. Either way, they are far better than the gun I gave you.”

  “We got two at a good deal,” Marco revealed proudly. “Also some backup charges. The gun gets its power from the ether core in the mag. It technically replenishes but damn slowly, so you want to carry around a couple of spares, at least.” He took out two small cases. “There are three each, just in case. The guns also have compartments on the side to insert special bullets if need be.”

  The young officer turned toward the field and fired several shots before she removed the magazine and let Johnny peer inside. The core was now slightly dimmer.

  “You’d better make your shots count.” He looked at his gun as Marco tossed her one of the containers. “I wonder what will happen…” He turned and fired a dozen shots, and when he took his magazine out, his square was still glowing. “Ha!”

  Valerie looked incredulously at it. “I’m sorry—what?”

  Vic floated closer as the young detective reinserted the core. “Johnny is able to generate ether. The gun is probably siphoning it. That’s how he was able to fire my gun despite it being a ghost weapon.”

  “It’s merely one of the bonuses of being a freak,” he said with a smile as he nodded to Marco to give Valerie the extra cores. He noticed a slider on the back of the weapon. “Hey, what’s this?”

  The officer moved the slider on hers up a little. “It increases the power of the shot.” She aimed and fired to launch a larger bolt of gray ether. The recoil forced her to step back.

  “While it has more of a kick, it drains more energy too.” Johnny nodded, flipped his up all the way, and prepared to shoot but she tried to stop him. “Wait, Johnny, I don’t think—” He ignored her and a massive bolt of ether fired while he was catapulted back several yards and over the car and finally landed heavily near the street.

  The group ran to him. Marco and Vic helped him up and he dusted himself off. “Ow… Well, I guess Vic did say he wanted hand cannons.”

  His partner chuckled. “Yeah. It makes me wonder what would happen if we fused.”

  The young detective looked into the distance. “It would probably shoot me well over the city from here.”

  Marco snapped his fingers. “Which reminds me!” He jogged to the case. “I know you were willing to give up your precious baby pistol.”

  “That’s not how I refer to it,” Vic clarified as he came up behind him. “What did you get me to replace her?”

  The young man smiled, turned, and presented him with his old pistol. “And here you are!”

  “Marco, I said I needed something better.” He frowned in confusion. “Could you not find a buyer?”

  “Oh, there were numerous potential buyers, but look closer.” He wrapped an arm around Vic. “Look at the barrel—both in and outside. It’s different, right?”

  The ghost took the pistol and realized he was right. The barrel had been altered and there were also differences to both the cylinder and chambers. “You had it modified?”

  Marco nodded. “Yeah. I found a guy hiding in the back and had enough to get him to take a look since I got a deal on those other guns. He works fast too and said he was happy to finally work on a classic.” He pointed at the field. “According to him, it should have way more punch. I couldn’t get it to fire so tell me what you think.”

  Vic spun the cylinder before he flipped it in and spectral bullets appeared in the chambers. “The bullets have form now.” He aimed at the field, fired, and frowned when he noticed a kick from the gun that hadn’t been there before. With a dry chuckle, he clapped the young man on the shoulder. “You did good, Marco.”

  “I have an eye
for weapons. It must be hereditary. Well, our show and tell is over. What did you guys find?”

  Johnny sighed. “Outside of one strange meeting, not much. We couldn’t even find out why a ghost would be fixated on Annie.” He gestured to her with an apologetic look. “Anyone with an idea simply gave us what we already knew about other ghost types. Or would go on tangents about prophecies, but unless this eastern-based folklore somehow changed location to New Orleans, I wouldn’t say it was very helpful.”

  “Stranger things have happened but I have to agree in this case.” Vic looked at his partner. “But as he said, we had one interesting talk. Show them the bullet.”

  He nodded, took the box from his jacket, and showed it to the others. “Some creepy dude in Limbo gave this to us. He said it could deal with the Axman when we find him.”

  Valerie looked at it and attempted to reach for it at first but held off. “I don’t get the best vibe from it,” she admitted and glanced at him. “Do we have any proof that it works?”

  The young detective nodded at his partner. “It hurt him.”

  “Hurt?” she asked, raised an eyebrow, and focused on Vic. “Like actual pain?” Johnny nodded and she frowned. “Well, that is certainly something, but is there anything else?”

  “I could take a look,” Aiyana offered and they turned in surprise as she walked closer. “If you would like me to.”

  “Aiyana? When did you get here?” Vic asked as he looked around. “I don’t see another car.”

  She smiled as she pocketed a totem. “I have my ways. Sorry, I would have arrived with the others but I wanted to see if I could commune with any spirits in the city. Unfortunately, many are too frightened to come out of hiding.” She took the box from Johnny but immediately almost dropped it as she gasped. He snatched it before it fell. “This is…this is unlike anything I know.”

  “That didn’t take long,” the young detective said as he put the box away.