The Vengeful Dead

by J N Duncan

  The density of this deathly fog ebbed and flowed, a swirling mist blown about on imaginary winds. It coalesced in places, hot or dense spots as it were, that beat with a dull, slow thrum. Jackie realized what they were as she had seen or at least had a vague sense of the same effect before when Laurel showed herself. They were the places where the dead had gone through to the abysmal cold of Deadworld.

  Shelby’s hand lightly touched upon her arm. “You can see things, can’t you, hon? Places where the dead have been?”

  Jackie pointed, though her eyes were not at the moment seeing physical reality. “There and there. Maybe further on, too. They are close together. And here, too, in front of us. Laur told me before that the space between our world and the next is thinnest at that place of death.”

  She gave Jackie’s arm a squeeze. “I knew you’d be able to do it. This is so wild. I wonder what else you can do?”

  “Shel,” Nick chided, “leave her be for a minute, will you? Jackie? What about right here in front of us? What can you tell about this spot? You might have to touch it in order to get anything. And don’t worry, we’re ready this time.”

  “Why don’t I find that soothing?” She walked up to the edge of the string and stopped, staring down at the matted grass. “What if I black out again and try to hurt you?” It was that possibility that terrified her more than anything. And not even the fact she might lash out at Nick and clock him in the head again. It was that loss of self that gave her hesitation. What exactly was going on there? Did she actually become someone else for a few seconds? Was she actually and literally gone in that time frame?

  “We’re here,” Nick said. “We’ll snap you out of it soon as it happens. If it does.”

  Jackie continued to stare down at the flattened grass as random drips of water fell from the leaves above, hitting, as she imagined, the dead woman’s face, running any makeup across her face, diluting the blood staining the back of her shirt, and helping to wash away trace evidence from around the body, if the killer had indeed even come out to check on her. She squatted down to her toes, reaching toward the background glow of the doorway to the dead.

  An assault of Spanish assailed her ears directly ahead, coming from somewhere inside the mobile home. Jackie sprung awkwardly to her feet, cringing in anticipation of the impending blackout, but none came. The screaming woman’s voice dimmed, but now that she was aware, it continued on, barely audible above the sounds of the investigation going on around her.

  Nick’s large, firm hands gripped both shoulders, pulling her back against the breadth of his chest. “Jackie! You with me?”

  She nodded. “Yeah.” She looked over at the broken window in the mobile home. “I think she’s in there, ranting in Spanish. I can’t understand a word she’s saying.”

  “Awesome!” Shelby said. “She’s a fucking natural, Nick. Holy shit. You didn’t even have to try, did you, Jackie?”

  “I . . . I’m not sure. I don’t understand how any of this works.”

  “It’s like she’s got a direct link.”

  Her voice was giddy, about the exact opposite of what Jackie thought of the whole situation. “You’ll have to pardon my enthusiasm. I think this whole thing blows in every way possible.”

  “It takes a while to get used to it,” Nick said. “You’ll get to where you can turn it on and off at will or in your case, just off, since it’s apparently always on for you.”

  “What in hell does that mean?” As if this wasn’t freakish enough, she was going to be a unique and special freak.

  “Like Shelby said,” Nick replied. “It seems your trip to Deadworld and back has established a permanent link.”

  Jackie spun around and stared up into contact-concealed eyes that had an even eerier glow in the misty, shrouded weather. “And that means? Fuck, you guys. I don’t understand any of this psychic bullshit. Put it in normal, dumb-girl terms that I can understand.”

  Nick stared up into the trees for a moment. “That doorway we use to go between, that Laurel uses, it’s locked for most people. For someone like me, I’m holding it open through extra means. For a ghost, they can use their own energies to open it up. But for you . . .” He looked back down into her eyes, a sympathetic smile softening the normally hard lines of his face. “I think the door may swing freely either way.”

  “So shit can just pop through any time it wants?”

  “Well, technically, I suppose that’s true.”

  Shelby shoved Nick in the shoulder, forcing him to step out to catch his balance. “Quit sugarcoating. Yes, Jackie, shit can pop through, if they know you’re here and if they have reason to want to. Which means it’s very unlikely. But since it’s possible, you need to be prepared to deal with that. That is the most important thing we must help you with.”

  “That what happened when I decked you, Nick?”

  “Something like that, yes,” he said.

  “I don’t want that to happen again. Ever.” She said it with a bit more emphasis than she had planned, and she came off sounding truly desperate.

  “Then you are going to have to learn how to push back when the other side starts to bleed through, Jackie,” she said. “Otherwise, you’ll be at the mercy of whatever decides to come through that door.”

  “And I do that how?”

  “Well . . .” She gave Jackie a little halfhearted shrug. “That’s the hard part.”

  “Fuck, you guys. I thought you were here to help me?”

  “We are,” Nick said, his voice quiet and calm. “But the best way to figure it out is to interact with the dead. If you are aware of the push and pull between the living and dead you will sense where your own power lies. Then you can tap into that and use it.”

  “Easy for you to say. I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

  Shelby huffed. “Let’s just go in there and see how it goes. We’ll deal with things as they come.”

  Jackie threw up her hands and marched toward the mobile home. “Sure, why not. Let’s go chat with the screaming, dead Latina.”

  At the screen door to the mobile home, Jackie was hit by an all too real sensation of blood and death. It was mixed with the lingering odor of pot. At least they came from the living side of things. She could hold on to that, even if it did turn her stomach.

  “Well, well. How on Earth did you get out of bed so early?” Pernetti grinned at Jackie from inside. The light from the kitchen gleamed off the sheen of sweat on his bulbous forehead. God, she had not missed him one iota.

  “Belgerman said I could take over the case,” she said.

  “What!” The flush of red, the utter look of shock on his face made Jackie smile. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

  She opened the screen and stepped in. “Oh, for Christ’s sake, Pernetti, loosen your panties. Belgerman would never play that game, fun as it might be.”

  Jenkins, who was on the far side of the living room, laughed. “Got you there, Pernetti. How you doing, Jack? I see you brought the Ghostbusters with you.”

  “The what?” It took a moment for it to sink in. She glanced back at Nick and Shelby who had come in behind her. Ah, hell no. No, no, no. “Don’t go there, Jenkins. I swear to God—”

  Pernetti barked out in laughter. “You Akroyd or Murray, Jack?

  “Fuck you, guys. Damn it. Fucking Ghostbusters.” It would be through headquarters in days. How many weeks of pranks would it spawn?

  Shelby stepped around Jackie. “I kind of like it actually. I want a Proton Pack though. That would be cool.”

  “God, Shelby. Don’t encourage them.”

  Pernetti snickered. “Who ya gonna call?”

  “You’re going to have to call an ambulance if you don’t shut up,” Jackie said. “Now, someone want to tell me what happened here, so we can get to work?” She had expected Ryan to be involved here somewhere or at least to have poked his head in to say hi. “Where’s McManus?”

  “Not sure if he’s coming. Had his kid to deal with. Anyway
. Pretty straight forward looks like,” Pernetti said, pushing himself away from the kitchen counter. “Shooter parked out on the road and came right to the door. No signs of forced entry. Took out the two guys here in the living room, nailed one in the kitchen, but not sure that one is going to make it, not without being a vegetable. One that died by the table there had a gun that discharged and we can’t find any signs of the bullet. So, hoping the bastard got hit. Rain washed away any signs of injury. Then, our shooter went down the hall there to the bedroom where one vic apparently tried to hide in the closet while the other jumped through the window. Shooter then proceeded to seriously fuck up the one in the bedroom.”

  “Disemboweled?”

  “Yep. Shot to the groin and head.”

  “Just like the previous scene,” Jackie said, more to herself than anyone. “We have IDs on any of them?”

  “Yeah, but haven’t heard back yet with more info. We’ll know soon. I’m guessing they’re connected to the previous vics though.”

  “You call Hauser?”

  “Of course, Jack. I’ve got a handle on things here. Don’t worry.”

  “Not worried,” she said. Just hate you running lead, you swollen-headed prick. “So, you good to have us look around?”

  “Yeah. We’re about done in here for now if you want to check things out and do whatever it is you guys do.”

  Jackie’s fists clenched at her side. Her worst, nagging fear about all of this, from falling apart, to the psychic bullshit, and everything else was that she would no longer be taken seriously as an agent. While Pernetti’s opinion mattered little to her, she could not help but feel like it was going to be pervasive among the entire unit. Shelby’s fingers brushed her hand, lingering for a moment.

  “Let’s see what we find,” she said.

  “Go for it,” Jenkins said. “I need some fresh air anyway.”

  The three of them stepped further in to let them out and Jackie gave Pernetti her evilest glare. She wanted nothing more than to wipe that smarmy smirk off his face.

  “He’s a charmer,” Shelby said

  “Tell me about it.” She unclenched her fists and took a deep breath, wrinkling her nose at the stench. “So, what now?”

  Nick stepped into the living room and looked down at the marked-off areas where the victims had been gunned down. “Can you tell where our ghost is?”

  “Oh yeah.” She had forgotten about her already. Jackie closed her eyes and focused once again upon the dead. The voice of the ghost sprang into her head with such sharp clarity that it made her flinch. Jackie pointed down the hall. “She’s down there.”

  Nick nodded. “Good. Let’s go see.”

  Thankfully, he led the way down the fifteen feet of hall to the main bedroom. A cold draft wafted into the hall from the broken window, cutting down on the reek of blood. The woman’s yelling had subsided to an insistent, angry muttering, still in incomprehensible Spanish. Nick walked into the room without hesitation and Jackie hugged close to his broad expanse of protective back.

  The room itself was demolished. Lamps were on the floor. The bedside tables were overturned, drawers pulled out on the floor. Clothing lay strewn everywhere, along with the shredded pages of magazines. The base of some kind of figurine stuck out from the middle of a flat-panel television mounted on the wall. The bedcovers were collected in a pile at the foot of the bed. On the mattress, Jackie could see an all-too-familiar pool of blood spread nearly from one end to the other.

  Seated on the edge of the bed, face buried in her hands was the faded, translucent form of a woman, long dark hair forming a curtain around her head.

  “Ma’am,” Nick said with his polite sheriff’s calm, “do you understand English?”

  Her head whipped around, revealing an anguished, tear-streaked face. She unleashed a torrent of Spanish at them.

  “Ma’am,” Nick said, “I’m sorry, but we can’t understand you.”

  Jackie found herself shuffling behind Nick a bit more, poking her head around his shoulder. Stay right there, lady. Don’t you come any closer.

  “The bastard!” she shouted with a thick accent. “That bastard took my Loopy!”

  “Is this where your Loopy died, ma’am?” Nick asked.

  “Vile black devil tore my Loopy up. Why?” she lamented. “Why he do that to my poor Loopy? He was a good man.” She buried her face in her hands again and began to sob.

  Jackie whispered, “So, what now?”

  “We convince her to move on and join Loopy,” he said.

  “Got any brilliant plans for doing that?” Jackie stayed behind Nick. She couldn’t get it out of her head that any sudden moves would have this ghost flinging objects at them—or worse, zapping her and having her attack Nick and Shelby.

  “You talk to her,” Shelby said. “Treat her just like you would the victim of any other crime.”

  Jackie stared at the distraught ghost. “But she’s not like the victim of any other crime. She’s dead, and what if she’s pissed off?”

  Shelby gave her a hard look. “She’s not violent, just traumatized, and I know you can relate to that. Perfect learning opportunity, Jackie.”

  “Yeah, but . . .” Jackie slowly let out a deep breath. “What if she decides to . . . attack or something?”

  “We’re right here to help,” Nick said. “Just talk to her, calm her down. In these situations, they often don’t realize yet that they are actually dead.”

  “Great. You two are no help at all. You want me to just sit down there and have a little chat with the ghost there and tell her she’s dead and should be like . . . moving on.” Didn’t they get the absurdity of this situation? Or the fact it wigged her out so much she could barely walk?

  Shelby nodded and pushed her out from behind Nick. “Yeah, pretty much. Have at it, girl.”

  Jackie swatted at her hand and gave Shelby a look. “You’re such a bitch. Why does Laur put up with you?”

  She nudged Jackie forward. “I come with excellent fringe benefits. Now go. She isn’t going to bite you.”

  “Biting is the least of my worries,” she said, taking a couple of hesitant steps toward the bed. She could feel the muscles in her legs trembling. What in God’s name did you say to someone who did not realize they were dead? Pardon me, ma’am but did you notice the hole in your head? Jackie gritted her teeth and stepped forward.

  The piercing cold intensified with each shuffling step. At the corner of the bed, Jackie stopped and glanced back at Nick and Shelby, who both gave her an encouraging nod.

  “You’re fine, hon,” she said. “Get her focus off the Loopy fella.”

  Fine. This was about as far from fine as Jackie could imagine. She inched closer, rubbing her clammy hands on her pants, and stopped a couple feet away. The blood on the bed was dangerously close to the edge, but Jackie realized if she didn’t sit down, her trembling legs might betray her. With her hands braced on her knees, she eased herself down onto the very edge of the bed. The woman didn’t seem to notice, and continued to sob and mutter into her hands.

  “Hey,” Jackie said in a quiet voice. “My name is Agent Rutledge. I’m here to help you.” The woman gave no indication of hearing her. “We’re going to catch whoever did this, don’t you worry.”

  “Don’t focus—” Shelby began.

  The woman turned, arms flailing out. Her arm whirled through Jackie like a blade of ice and she gasped, flinching away. Jackie’s right hand reached out to the bed in an involuntary effort to brace herself from the blow that made no contact and planted itself squarely in the blood-soaked mattress. The energy of Deadworld leaped up Jackie’s arm.

  “It was the Devil!” the woman said.

  The air grew teeth-chattering cold. Through the thin veil between the worlds that surrounded Loopy’s place of death, the opening expanded, emitting a long, violent howl of agony from the other side.

  “Loopy!” The ghost turned, staring wide-eyed with both horror and relief. Her arms outstretched for her dep
arted lover. “Loopy. My darling Loopy.”

  “Ahhh, Maria! Maria!” came the anguished voice from the other side.

  The woman stood and turned, leaping through the open door. Jackie, finally having regained a bit of her balance, jerked back from the jolt that flashed up her arm from the bed, a rod of ice that for a moment seemed to freeze her in place. The instant she did, the veil closed, and she stumbled back off the bed, letting out a scream suitable to a seven-year-old who has been snuck up on and goosed.

  “What the fuck was that?” Jackie continued to scramble away, pushing herself back against the wall.

  Shelby sounded truly stunned. “Holy shit.”

  Nick jumped over to Jackie and knelt down, laying a hand upon her arm. “Jackie? You OK?”

  She clamped onto his forearm, needing something solid to cling to while her heart worked its way out of her throat and back to its normal resting place. “What . . . what just happened?”

  Footsteps came clamoring down the hall and Pernetti and Denny ran into the room. Pernetti looked around briefly and then relaxed. “What’s going on?”

  “It’s all good,” Shelby said, waving them off. “Just had a little scare is all. We’re fine.”

  Denny rushed over to Jackie. “Jack? You all right?”

  Jackie gulped down the hysteria that was threatening to burst out of her throat and nodded. “I’m OK. I think.”

  “What happened?”

  Shelby laughed. “Just a little Ghostbuster action. Jackie was just taking care of business.”

  Pernetti shook his head, looking utterly confused. “Whatever. Can do without the screaming though, if you don’t mind.”

  Shelby waved him off. “Go. Give the girl some space. Denny, she’s fine. We’re all fine here.”

  He backed off, waiting until Jackie nodded in agreement before turning away. “OK then. Let us know if you need anything.”

  “We will.” Shelby walked him back to the door, making sure they both left the room, then leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed over her chest. “Well, Jackie girl. You’re just full of surprises.”