A Name in the Dark

by G S Fortis

  Instinct takes over, and I duck and cover. “Paige!” I yell.

  Paige ducks with me. “What?” She’s clearly panicked but not registering the spectacle. She’s reacting to me.

  It dawns on me that I never heard a sound. No gunshot. No impact from the shot. No scream from Leona. I stand up and look at the back door.

  Paige is freaking out now. “Darcy! What’s going on?”

  I point to the door. Paige shakes her head. “What about it?”

  It opens, and Leona walks in holding an arrangement of flowers.

  Paige repeats her question. “What am I looking at?”

  Leona looks up in horror. Or more accurately, Leona’s ghost looks up in horror. The flowers explode against her chest. Blood flies everywhere. Leona staggers back and out the door. Again.

  This time, I notice something different. It wasn’t a gunshot that ripped into her. Something punched a hole in her chest. The figure returns through the door again. This time, Paige raises her gun and aims.

  It isn’t Leona walking through the doorway. It’s a young woman in her early twenties with long black hair. She shuffles in, eyes cast down. Her face is pale and drawn like she hasn’t had a decent meal or good night’s sleep in weeks.

  “Elizabeth?” I whisper.

  Elizabeth Viramontes looks up. She’s confused when she sees me—actually, she seems generally confused about everything. Her eyes are bloodshot from crying.

  I gently place my hand on Paige’s pistol and lower it. “Are you okay?”

  The young girl’s lips quiver. “What did I do?”

  I take a few steps forward then stop.

  Elizabeth raises her hands. They’re stained with a coat of dried crimson flakes that resemble old gloves. “What did I do?” she asks again.

  What did she do? It’s only then that I register the spectacle before me—Elizabeth Viramontes, her hands coated in blood, wearing a familiar blue-and-red gown.

  Her body suddenly jerks and spasms with impossible movements. Elizabeth cries out in pain as she falls to her knees.

  Paige pulls me away, suddenly alarmed. “Darcy! Run!”

  But I don’t. I stand, watching something I’ve never seen from the outside. Leona’s apparition passes through Elizabeth’s body, blocking my view. The ghost looks up as the same spectacle plays out just like before. A look of horror. The blood. She falls back and disappears through the doorway.

  Where Leona once stood, Santa Muerte rises from her knees. Her skeletal face stares at me, and her cracked lips spread in a gruesome grin. This time, however, I see her in a new light. I see a kindred spirit, a girl consumed by fire. I see Elizabeth, possessed by Santa Muerte.

  She strikes with incredible speed. Her claw-like hand reaches for my chest, and I know in an instant what is coming. As fast as I can, I reach out and grab her arm. Grimacing through the pain in my shoulder, I resist her strength.

  Just like before, the contact creates an excruciating shock. I resist letting go and power through the pain. Two unnatural and diametrically opposed forces are colliding in a physical plane where they do not belong—polar opposites fighting against each other and against the energy that possesses us.

  Her bony arms feel like sticks under sheaths of skin. Grasping them, my hands are seared with hot pain. I twist her arm to wrestle her away. She launches herself with full force against me, and we fly across the kitchen against a kitchen cabinet.

  We spin and crash onto the floor, with me on my back and the spirit above me. Her wide skull-like grin lunges toward me. Her weight pushes me down with a strength I can barely resist. Her fingers continue reaching toward my chest—toward my beating heart. I cry out to push her away. The grimacing teeth inch closer. Her eyes stare straight into mine as her face nears.

  As she gets closer, I fear she’s going to bite into my face at any moment. The black voids where her eyes should be bore into mine. I call out, “Elizabeth!”

  For a moment, the specter hesitates. The figure above me flickers like a glitching ghost. The skeletal face disappears, and in its place, I see Elizabeth. Two frightened eyes look back at me.

  I remember that moment when Dudley released me and let me see Bennet die. In the same way, Elizabeth has regained control of her body. Santa Muerte is gone.

  “Elizabeth!” I shout again.

  Panic washes over her face. She stops struggling with me. “What’s happening?”

  “Stay with me!” I shout. “Don’t—”

  Too late. The Lady of Death resumes control of Elizabeth’s corporeal body. Her skull-like mask returns. Once again, her hand pushes for my heart. Sharp nails dig into my skin.

  Bam! A gunshot rings out. The impact strikes the entity above me, forcing her off. Instinctively, I cry out, “No!”

  The spirit rolls into the air and lands on her feet a few yards away. I look up to see Paige aiming the gun again, ready to pull the trigger again.

  “Don’t!” I cry out again. I leap up and push the pistol away as another gunshot rings out. I can’t let Paige hurt Elizabeth. She knows my demon’s name. She can save me.

  Santa Muerte crouches on all four and hisses at us, readying for another attack. Just as she’s about to lunge, she stops. Her heads whips toward the front of the house as if she is listening.

  Something screeches from outside. A sound I’ve heard before. An owl.

  Santa Muerte face turns to me, fury washing over her face. Just like at the library, a mysterious force pulls her and sucks her out of the open doorway. I run out the back door and watch as she disappears into the night sky.

  My eyes are drawn to the ground outside and the steps at my feet. Several feet away in the grass, lying on her back, is Leona. Blood has pooled around her body and has soaked into the ground.

  Shouts of the police announcing their presence echo behind me. I slowly raise my arms, my wounded shoulder limiting how high I can lift that arm. I step backward, and I sense an energy pass through me.

  Leona’s ghost emerges through my body and materializes before me. I watch as she replays the moment of her death. Her face twists in pain and shock. She stumbles back, and her spirit crumbles before me then settles into the body lying on the grass.

  It’s like I said—there are two types of ghosts. A residual ghost is like an energy force playing in an infinite loop. Residual ghosts do not interact with the real world any more than a projected movie would. Like Leona’s ghost.

  Then there are intelligent ghosts, the kind trapped on this plane of existence who know they are trapped. These ghosts interact with the living—or in some cases, possess them. Elizabeth is possessed, just like me.

  I take a knee and feel a police officer grab my arm and jerk it behind my back. My bad shoulder burns as the muscle tears in his grip. I don’t care. Elizabeth is still alive, possessed by the spirit who knows my demon’s name.

  Chapter 24

  ____◊____

  IT DOESN’T LOOK GOOD for Paige and me at first glance. That night, we entered the premises of a known drug dealer without permission. Police stationed at the scene report hearing gunshots. Then they arrived to find Paige holding a gun and me standing over the body of a dead woman.

  That was why I didn’t resist when they arrived and why I didn’t complain when they wrenched my injured shoulder to handcuff me. I didn’t offer any resistance when they escorted me to the driveway and shoved me into the back of a squad car. It’s also why I didn’t say a single word when they started asking us questions. I didn’t even ask for a lawyer.

  The red and blue lights move across the front yard as a helicopter spotlight sweeps the grounds. I look out the back seat through the window to Paige, who sits in the back of another squad car. Through an open door, a plainclothes detective listens to her as she talks. I have no choice but to trust that Paige isn’t saying anything relevant. There’s a good chance I won’t talk to her until after the police have both our statements, and the worst thing
we could do is offer contradictory information.

  Strike that. The worst thing we could do is tell the truth.

  Through the rear window, I can make out a soft glow over the manicured bushes—certainly emanating from the television crews filming this breaking news story. My cuffed hands sit in my lap. At least the LAPD was kind enough to front cuff me on account of my shoulder. I rotate my arm, trying to find a comfortable position.

  Paige finishes her interview. The detective closes the door on her and turns away, a look of disgust on his face. Good girl, Paige.

  At this point, the police know I’m not saying anything to them. I’m not talking until someone I can trust arrives. When David opens the door and slides into the back seat with me, I breathe a sigh of relief. He’s the only one I know will have my back in this.

  “I’m swear to God, Darcy, you’d better have a damn good explanation for this, or I’m letting you rot in jail.”

  My knight in shining armor. “Is the medical examiner here?”

  David shakes his head, already growing impatient. “Yeah, he’s here. Why?”

  “Here’s the deal. First, you’re going to talk to the cop on surveillance tonight. He’s going to tell you Paige and I arrived at ten fifteen. This is going to be corroborated by a rideshare receipt you’ll find on my phone. Second, the medical examiner is going to determine that the time of death was well before that time frame. And for the trifecta, Leona wasn’t killed by a gunshot.”

  “The police on duty report hearing two gunshots.”

  “Yes, Paige fired her gun—”

  “What the hell is Paige doing with a gun?”

  “I know! It’s ridiculous. And believe me, I’m going to have a talk with her about it later.”

  “This isn’t a joke, Darcy.”

  “Leona’s heart was ripped out, David.”

  He stops. I can see the thoughts racing through his mind. This information is good and bad at the same time.

  “Just like Lupe?” he asks.

  “Just like Lupe.”

  “That puts you at two crime scenes with the same MO.”

  “I know, but it also means she wasn’t shot. I don’t know when she died, but it was well before we got here.”

  “This is a colossal mess,” he says, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “You wanna explain why there was a report of shooting outside your apartment this afternoon?”

  Oh, right. “You heard about that?”

  “Yeah. When a dozen people call 911, it gets around the department. Was that Paige, too?”

  “No, no, no. Someone else shot me.” I nod toward my injured shoulder.

  He looks at me and does a double take, seeming to notice my bandage for the first time. “You were shot?”

  “A little bit.”

  David grabs my shoulder and inspects the wrapping. The remnants of dried blood are still caked on my clothes. “You okay? Do we need to get you to a hospital?”

  I shrug him off. “It’s fine. I’m fine.”

  “You’ve seen a doctor? He said you were okay?”

  “Yes, that’s why I’m dressed like a nurse tonight. And hey, it’s the twenty-first century. We have women doctors now.”

  “So you saw a woman doctor?”

  “That’s… neither here nor there. Big picture, David!”

  He rubs his temples. “You’re exhausting. Let’s get back to tonight. Why did you come here?”

  “Because I thought Leona shot me, and I came here to warn Carmen Viramontes about her.”

  “Leona?”

  “Yeah.”

  “The dead woman?”

  I sigh. “I’m willing to admit I was wrong about that one.”

  David stares at me for a moment before saying, “You honestly think anyone’s gonna buy that story?”

  “Look, once the ME confirms the time of death and the fact that she was not shot, and the police on scene confirm the time frame, you’ll see it confirms my statement.”

  “You haven’t provided a statement.”

  “I just did.”

  “I am not the detective on scene, you…” David punches and kicks the seat in front of him over and over and over. The entire car shakes as he violently releases all the frustration I’m causing him. Then he stops.

  “Better?” I ask.

  David opens the door and exits the car. He slams the door shut with more enthusiasm than is necessary. I watch as he marches toward Ed Snyder. Good old fun-filled Ed. They have a brief and heated exchange then disappear into the house together. I look out the window at Paige, who is also watching the scene. She shakes her head.

  A few minutes later, David comes marching out of the house alone. He stomps his way to my car, opens the back door, and slides in beside me. He doesn’t immediately say anything.

  I finally ask, “Well?”

  “You were right—it wasn’t a gunshot. And her heart’s missing. I don’t have an exact time of death, but it’s roughly two hours ago.”

  “See? It couldn’t have been me.”

  “Where were you two hours ago?”

  “Hollydale Homes. Seeing my new doctor.”

  He shakes his head. “I wish you’d listened to me and stayed home.”

  “That’s where I was shot, remember?”

  He sighs. “Right.”

  “David,” I say, keeping my tone serious, “they know where I live.”

  He nods his understanding. The body count is piling up, and someone means to add me to the list. “Do you know where Carmen is?”

  I shake my head. “I haven’t heard from her. I came here to warn her. If she’s smart, she’s hiding.”

  “Why did Paige fire her gun?”

  If I give David a reason, and Paige gives a different one, we’re screwed. “I don’t know.”

  This is the safest answer I can provide. I can’t speculate, so whatever motivation Paige conjures up, I can’t contradict. If Paige says she saw an assailant, that’s her reason. If she says she saw an ethereal spirit from another dimension attacking me, my answer still works.

  “You’re in more trouble than you’re worth.”

  That hurts me more than I care to admit. The last thing in the world I want is for David to feel that. It would be nice if he could be the type of guy who, for once, thought I was… worth the trouble. David exits the vehicle and closes the door behind him.

  “You’re not the first person to tell me that,” I say to no one.

  He walks over to the detective who was questioning Paige earlier, who is now with Snyder. They talk, and I can tell that David is working to convince him of something. The other detective continually shakes his head then finally lifts his hands in defeat. He yells something unintelligible as he points at Paige, then me, before finally walking away.

  David tries to walk away, too, and Snyder grabs him. I can only assume Snyder is trying to talk some sense into David. Hopefully, David will make an irrational decision for my benefit.

  I spend the next fifteen minutes watching David talk to several different people—presumably other detectives and the commander on the scene. Eventually, David signs off on some document before he walks over to the police car that’s holding Paige. He opens the door and helps her out then uncuffs her. When he heads over to me, she follows him.

  He opens my door and sweetly says, “Get out of the car.” I shimmy my way to the door, and before I’m even standing, David is walking away. “Let’s go.”

  I hurry after Paige, who’s following David. My feet are still sore, so I quickly fall behind them. “What about my cuffs?”

  David ignores me, so Paige turns to me. “I think he’s mad at you.”

  “What did I do?”

  “And he took my gun,” she adds.

  “David! Why did you take her gun?”

  He doesn’t even slow down. “One, she’s not supposed to be carrying a gun around. It’s illegal.”

&nb
sp; “Then write her a ticket. I’m sure she’d be happy to pay.”

  “Hey!” Paige objects.

  “And two,” David continues, “it’s evidence in a murder investigation!”

  “She didn’t shoot Leona!”

  “Doesn’t matter.”

  We continue following him to his police-issued blue Dodge Charger parked in the driveway. He opens the front door for Paige, and she slides inside. I wait at the rear door, but he ignores me and climbs into the driver’s seat. I struggle to open the door with my cuffed hands then tumble inside and fall into the back seat.

  “No help?” I say to Paige.

  “That’s for the ticket comment.”

  David starts the engine and pulls forward. The movement of the car shuts the door for me. The Charger pulls out through gates, and as I deduced, the residential street is lined with news vans, reporters, and cameras. Uniformed officers open a lane as David slowly navigates his way through the crowd. Flashbulbs go off. The car finally emerges from the crowd.

  David sighs. “I’m going to take you home so you can pack your things. You can’t stay there if this person who took a shot at you knows where you live. Do you have somewhere you can stay? With someone you trust?”

  Yeah, I have someone in mind.

  Chapter 25

  ____◊____

  DAVID’S CAR WINDS ITS way through the Santa Monica Mountains along Mulholland Drive. We made the stop by our loft. While David stood guard, we quickly packed our necessities and left before anyone tried to murder us. Again.

  I stare out the back window as his car takes the serpentine route along the crest of the mountain. At times, I’m staring at the vast sea of lights to the north in the San Fernando Valley or the endless lights of the Westside to the south. It’s peaceful up here, the kind of place I need to be for now.

  “Who do you think killed Leona?” David finally asks.

  I’m not sure what to tell David. I know what killed her. My list of suspects is also shortening down to the semifinalists.

  “I’d look into Hugo,” I say.

  “The enforcer?” he asks. Clearly, he’s familiar with Hugo’s work.