by Drew Hayes
All things considered, it was probably the best she could hope for in this kind of crash. Velt flipped around to check out the front windshield, which had completely shattered. At least she knew how they were getting out. From nearby, she could see two figures rushing toward them. Given that one was huge and the other partially see-through, it seemed a safe bet that it was Topher and Auggie. They’d almost made it back to the main hall before the crash. Velt felt her pulse race as she remembered Irwin, that fucking little snake, trying to run them off the road. He was going to pay for that one.
“Kay, I’m feeling relatively okay, but I’ve lost a decent amount of blood. If I happen to pass out before Topher and Auggie get here, make sure Auggie stays clear of me.”
“’Cause of the thing you did to Irwin?”
“Worse. Right now, I’m covered in my own blood, which is far more potent than just my skin. If Auggie makes contact with me, it will be the last thing he ever does this side of the afterlife.”
“How about you try not to pass out? I like that idea a fuckload better.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Velt said. “By the way, you still have more liquor, right?”
“Of course. I was going camping originally, after all.”
“Good. I don’t want this bullshit slowing me down.”
Kay stared at her new friend in shock. “Are you still planning to go after them?”
“Fate of the world, remember? Though, I have to admit,” Velt said, staring at the wreckage around her, “this is going to be one bitch of a setback.”
* * *
Clinton and Art hadn’t actually noticed Velt and Kay leave the forest, nor had they seen Irwin sneak into the SUV. The crash, on the other hand, readily drew their attention. The two spirits darted above the trees, staring at the wreckage visible even from their location.
“Shit, ain’t no way that’s a good sign.”
“We should go see if we can help,” Clinton said.
“Shouldn’ we get Irwin, too?”
“I think everyone halfway back to town heard that crash. He’ll head over on his own.”
Art had his doubts about that. Last time they’d talked to Irwin, he’d seemed squeamish and nervous. Admittedly, the situation had them all a bit on edge, but there was something about his attitude that made Art wary. Despite being dead for a year, Irwin was way behind on making peace with his situation. He’d still been clinging to the world of the living, in denial about the fact that his life was over and that it was time to adjust. Being offered the chance to go back to that world . . . Art wasn’t one to make presumptions about people, but that didn’t mean a little well-placed wariness was a bad idea.
Clinton led the way with Art following, the latter keeping an eye out for their suspiciously absent third companion.
* * *
Velt took a deep swig from the bottle, nearly choked on the potency, then put a cloth in her mouth and poured a small amount of liquor on one of her open wounds. Her teeth clenched, and she managed to bite back the scream of pain that welled up in her throat.
Across the room, Kay was bandaged up and knocking back a few swigs of her own. The seatbelt had bruised her badly on the chest and she’d taken a few small cuts, but on the whole, she was okay. Auggie hovered close by, both out of concern for his friend and to keep a safe distance from the woman who was evidently poisonous to a spirit.
“What are we going to do now?” Topher asked, voice heavy. He watched Velt treat her injuries and resisted the urge to imagine how she’d acquired such deft and precise skill. “The SUV is toast, and you aren’t in any condition to go hunting after Auggie’s body, even if we manage to catch sight of him.”
“We’re not going to hunt him anymore,” Velt declared, pulling the cloth from her mouth. It was stained red by the blood she hadn’t yet managed to spit out. “From the minute he completed the second ritual, I realized the way we were doing things wasn’t working. We were on the way to tell you two that when that dead-shit decided to try and kill us.”
“How do you intend to stop him without tracking him down?” Auggie asked.
“I only needed to track him to the first three ritual sites. I already know where the last one is, and I plan to be there waiting for him when he shows up.” Velt took one more swig from the bottle and then set it down. A little more might have helped the pain, but she was going to need as much of the stuff as she could muster soon.
“The island, right? That’s why there’s an army of ghosts sitting on top of it, making no move to come after us. It’s the site of the last ritual,” Topher said.
“You nailed it. Magic loves a good circle, and something ending at the same place it began falls right in to that category. I should have plenty of time to get over there; the second ritual took noticeably longer for The Emissary to set up, so the third is probably going to be the longest yet. With any luck, by the time he shows up, I’ll have cleared out his forces and be ready to settle this.”
“You’ve got to be shitting us,” Kay said. “There are dozens and dozens of those things. Even if you can hurt them, wouldn’t they be able to overwhelm you?”
“It’s possible,” Velt admitted. “To be honest, dealing with them head-on wasn’t my first plan. I wanted to send that SUV off the cliff overlooking the island, loaded down with flaming alcohol and an explosive or two. Would have wiped a big chunk of those bastards out, but that plan got screwed when Irwin flipped our car.”
“Why on earth would ghosts care about an explosion?” Topher asked.
“They wouldn’t; not about the blast, anyway. Now, the resulting fire, they’d give a lot of fucks about that.” Velt took a roll of bandages and did her best to cover her wounds. Thankfully, Auggie’s overly-careful nature, along with Topher’s tendency to injure himself, had resulted in an extensive cache of first-aid supplies present at all shoots. “It’s supposed to be sort of a secret, but since the world is basically doomed unless we succeed, I may as well tell you: fire hurts spirits. It can even destroy their grip on this plane, like what I do.”
“Forgive my skepticism, but I fail to see why fire, of all things, would be the one thing to injure ghosts,” Auggie said.
“It isn’t the only thing, it’s just the easiest to use. As for why? It’s not that surprising. Fire hurts almost everything supernatural. It’s why humans gathered around it for safety all the way back in primitive times. Fire drives back the darkness; always has, always will.”
“That is a lovely philosophy; though, it fails to offer anything resembling an explanation,” Auggie pointed out.
“For fuck’s sake, it’s magic,” Kay snapped. “You’re floating a foot off the ground, can you just accept that this is the way things work, without trying to dissect every bit of it?”
“Actually, no, I can’t,” Auggie shot back. “My whole life has been science: cause and effect, the world working in an established system that I have tried to understand. I cannot accept that something ‘just works’ because it goes against every fiber of who I am and how I’ve lived my life.” Auggie’s form began to glow just the slightest bit as he riled himself up, but it quickly dissipated as he calmed down. “I can, however, accept it temporarily in order to move forward with our current plan.”
“Wouldn’t call it much of a plan anymore,” Velt said. She pulled herself to her feet and reached for the duffel bag with her still-working, left arm. “It’s just me going to the island and raising hell before Hell raises itself.”
“Screw that, there’s got to be something we can do,” Topher said. “What about your idea with the bombs? The SUV is down, but we could still go up to the top of the cliff and throw some makeshift Molotov cocktails.”
“That cliff is a pretty serious hike away, and you’d need to bring a lot of stuff with you,” Velt said. “Not to mention that we need a big boom to take them out while they’re clustered; if you cherry-pick targets, they’ll probably spread out. Without the SUV, the attack from above just doesn’t see
m feasible.”
“We don’t have an SUV, but we may have a vehicle that could still serve the purpose,” Auggie said, his voice soft as his brain whirled.
“The Charger? You said that thing’s engine was fucked-in-half,” Kay reminded him.
“It would need something like ‘thousands of dollars of work,’ if I remember right,” Topher said.
“Oh yes, for it to be capable of functioning over a prolonged period of time, at current safety standards for vehicles on the road, that is all still astoundingly true,” Auggie agreed. “However, we don’t need any of that. All we need is around fifteen minutes of sustained motion, and that is a far more manageable goal. Especially if I steal parts from the SUV.”
“I don’t know what in the nine hells you three are talking about, but I guess you’re saying there’s another car we can use?” Velt asked.
“An old Dodge Charger, painted to look like the General Lee,” Topher said. “The engine is ancient and busted, so whoever owns it abandoned the thing in the main hall garage.”
Velt made no effort to hide the dubious expression on her face. “You think you can fix a car so broken that it had to be abandoned fast enough to help stop The Emissary? I’d guess we’ve only got an hour, maybe an hour and a half, tops. Seems like a tall order.”
“Ma’am, I realize we’ve only just met, so I will refrain from taking offense at the implication that I overestimate my abilities.” Auggie stared at Velt, involuntarily puffing out his chest ever-so-slightly. “I have been dealing with electronics and combustibles since before I was in first grade. I was hailed as a prodigy in youth, yet I worked with the kind of tenacity one usually sees in those who have no talent at all. I attended a top-tier university and graduated valedictorian in electrical engineering, even while dealing with Topher’s insistent adventures and distractions.”
He floated across the room, stopping only a few feet away from the copper-haired woman covered in slowly-drying blood.
“I am August Fucking Parrish, forgive the language, and if I say I can build or fix something, then you may consider it already completed.”
Velt stared at him in surprise, eyes darting over to Kay and Topher, who both appeared unruffled. As timid and cautious a guy as Auggie was, he had zero tolerance for people questioning his capabilities. They would have called it hubris, but since he really did successfully deliver on every project he undertook, it was technically just acute self-awareness.
“Well then, go get to it,” Velt said. “I’ll leave it in your clearly capable hands.”
“Your begrudging confidence is noted,” Auggie replied. He spun around and motioned to Topher. “Since time is short, we need to begin immediately. I’ll get the tools I keep for equipment breakdowns; you hurry out to the SUV. Haul the pieces I detach to the garage as soon as I get them free.”
“Kay should go, too,” Velt said.
“I can only work so quickly. Topher’s muscle should be adequate,” Auggie said.
Velt narrowed her eyes and made the slightest of nods with her head, gesturing toward the far wall. “Time is short, Auggie. I really think Kay should go with you.”
“Very well, then. We’ll get right to work.” Whatever was going on, it was evident she wanted them clear of the hall. Auggie didn’t have to understand the reason to respect her opinion. She was every bit as much an expert in her field as he was in his.
“Good idea. Kay, bring your stuff along too, just in case.” Velt grabbed a quarter-empty bottle of liquor and handed it to Kay, who still had the lighter tucked safely away. She gave a brief nod of understanding and the three left the hall.
Only after they were gone did Velt speak again. She set the duffel bag down, wiped a bit of still-oozing blood onto the knuckles of her left hand, and called out, “Get on out here right now, or I’m assuming you fucks turned traitor too.”
Clinton and Art floated though the far wall. They’d been trying to listen in discreetly; however, this had meant putting their ears through the wall. It hadn’t been much, but to eyes trained like Velt’s, those spectral body parts stood out like beacons.
“What do you mean ‘too’?” Clinton asked, moving forward carefully.
“I got a sneakin’ suspicion I know exactly what she means.” Art and Clinton had spent a bit of time outside examining the wreck, and the more Art saw, the more he thought about Irwin’s squirmy behavior.
“Your buddy went to the other side, tried to kill me and Kay; and actually managed to come closer than I’d have expected him to. If you see him, make sure he knows he’s going to regret not finishing the job . . . or maybe that’s what you’re here for.”
“Whoa, no way.” Clinton held his hands up in a show of surrender. “We came to check out what happened, that’s when we saw the wreck. Until then, we were combing the woods for that guy’s stolen body, just like you told us to. Why would we want to help bring about the end of the world?”
“’Cause we’re already dead,” Art said. “She thinks we might want to do like Irwin, and make this world in to a place where our kind rules.”
“Then she’s crazy.” Clinton looked at Velt, taking note that she was still very much in a position that lent itself to attacking. “Look, lady, we’ve been here for decades. Even if we had people tying us to this world, those folks are long gone by now. Either they’re already dead, or they’ve changed so much they may as well be entirely different people. Art and I know that our next step is to the other side. We’d have both taken it ages ago if we could, but this damn place has held us prisoner. We want to move on, to see what comes next, because I have to be honest: over forty years of hanging around here has left me soured on the idea of haunting this world. It is boring as shit.”
“Ditto,” Art agreed. “’Sides, I figure that next world has got some fun and mystery all of its own. I’m ‘bout ready to explore it.”
Velt slowly, very slowly, released the coiled tension in her muscles. Maybe these two were full of crap, but on the whole she’d been dealing with spirits long enough to spot which ones were stuck on this plane, and which ones were refusing to leave. She didn’t trust them entirely—that would have been beyond foolish given the night she’d had—but she was willing to give them a chance to prove the truth of their words. After all, they were going to need as many people on their side as they could get.
“One false move, one thing to even make me suspect that you’re playing both sides, and I will break you apart in the slowest, most painful method I can possibly manage. Understand?”
Clinton and Art looked at each other, then nodded.
“Good. Then go help the others. We’ve got a car to fix, and then destroy.”
Chapter 12
When Irwin found The Emissary, the latter was deep in the woods, stumbling about as he searched for the third site. The thread of magic that connected him to it was persistent, but weak. This was where the land had changed the most, trees and animals having sown new life over the hidden shrine to death. It delayed The Emissary, but did not deter him. He could feel the site all but thrumming with power begging to be set free. It was so near now: the time of the rising, when life would be swept clean from the world and only the glorious dead would remain.
Irwin approached carefully. He wasn’t sure how he’d been able to locate this place. Ever since he’d basked in the light of the last site, he’d felt this strange tug in the core of his gut. It whispered to him, guiding him on where to go, where he needed to be.
“It’s done,” Irwin said, voice so loud that it scared off some of the surrounding wildlife. The Emissary winced involuntarily then glanced about to see if anyone had begun approaching. Silence was one’s native tongue when being hunted, but such follies as talk were to be expected when one worked with idiots.
“Is it now?” The Emissary replied. “You’ve sent her across the divide, torn her loose from that blasphemous flesh she wielded? Do tell me, brother, how did you manage such a feat?”
“I made them cr
ash their car. When I left, she was in a bloody heap. If she isn’t already dead, she will be soon.”
The Emissary had no idea what a “car” was, but no sooner had the word been processed than images bubbled forth from the flesh’s mind: a four-wheeled conveyance mechanism powered by liquid fire. How interesting the world had grown in The Emissary’s absence. Perhaps, when the cleansing was complete, he would find one of these devices and try it out for himself.
“A bloody heap . . . And you’re certain she will not be troubling us anymore?”
“I guarantee it,” Irwin said. “By the time she limps out of that wreckage, we’ll have already won.”
“You had better be right.” The Emissary didn’t bother threatening Irwin with what would happen if he was wrong. There was no point in it; they already knew the score. Better to focus on the third ritual. Even now, with his main threat supposedly eliminated, The Emissary wished to be done with his tasks. He reached the dirt covering the last site before the island and began to dig. For now, there was work to be done.
Only a fool celebrated before victory was fully achieved.
* * *
Auggie slammed the hood down with a forceful push, enjoying the ability to move objects once more. It had been hard work, and he’d made more than a few on-the-spot modifications that had tested the very limits of his ingenuity, but it was done.
“Were I presenting this to a mechanic or car aficionado, I daresay they’d have an outright fit about what I’ve done; however, it should run. Just not for very long.”
“Then someone turn the key, and let’s test it,” Velt said. She was in the corner of the garage, filling up the already-emptied bottles and some old plastic jugs they’d found with gas siphoned out of the SUV. The Charger only needed a bit for what they had planned, so the rest would be better used to add some oomph to its inevitable crash.