by Peter Clines
Max chuckled. George sighed. “Great.”
I stretched in what I hoped was a casual way and fed some power into the electric chair. You still heading out?
“Yeah. You still nervous?”
I shrugged and Max caught my eye again. He was walking around George, examining the Prince Valiant look from every angle. “Doing this to his hair rated giving out raffle tickets?”
It’s a big thing, I said.
Max chuckled.
I looked at George. You and I have been over to the Valley a few times but really no one’s gone there in almost two years. Hell, I think Danielle was the last one there when she came over with her Marines.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to call them ‘her Marines.’ ”
Whatever.
“We’ve got to go sometime,” said George. “We’ve cleaned out everything we can find on this side of the hills. Now it’s either the beach or the Valley, and the Valley’s got a lot more resources.”
“A lot of exes, too,” said Max.
I know, I said, not really sure which of them I was answering. You have to admit, though, it’s just kind of weird. I’ve gotten used to the Valley being “somewhere else,” y’know?
George nodded. “There seems to be a lot of that going around,” he said. “We’re getting … insular, I guess. Is that the right word?”
Max nodded and I copied him. Yeah.
“Plus I just had a talk with Billie about the Seventeens. We’ve got to start including them more, starting now. She’s going to have one of them come out with us.”
Really?
Max scowled. “Seriously? Why not just park the truck and open up the back so the exes can get in?”
I remember I thought hard about Max shutting up. He was so lonely and so excited to have someone to talk to, it was tough for him to stop talking sometimes. And sometimes it made it really hard for me to hide the fact there was someone else in the room. So I thought about it really hard, and maybe one or two folks in the area even heard “Stop talking” come over their walkies.
Max heard it. “Sorry,” he said, because we’d talked about it before. He turned away and went to examine the CD collection he’d memorized a month ago.
I tried to remember the last thing George had said. Something about the Seventeens. I went with an easy cover. You sure you don’t want me coming out with you?
George shook his head. “We’ll be fine. This way you can keep Danielle powered up here and still make it out to us if anything goes wrong.”
Assuming you have time to set off a flare.
“If we don’t have time to set off a flare, there’s not much you’d be able to do anyway.” He held up his hand and counted off three fingers. “Remember, red is trouble, blue we need you but it’s not urgent, white means we’re spending the night over there.”
The thought of sleeping with exes all around creeped me out. When I get to sleep, I’m out cold. And when I’m human, I can’t feel anything from my thighs down. An ex could chew on my legs for an hour and I could sleep through it. That’s vulnerable in a way lots of people don’t get. It was a recurring nightmare for a while, right after we started fighting the exes but before everything collapsed.
Better you than me, I told George.
He nodded. “Hey, it’s my last choice, too.” He knew about my nightmares. I’d shared them a few months ago during a Freddy Krueger marathon. He told me he had one now and then where zombie children were overwhelming him.
That’s the sort of guy George is. He trusts you. You trust him.
Actually, I said, do you have a minute?
He nodded. “Yeah, sure.”
There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.
Max perked up.
I’d seen enough movies to know this was the point where so many people get ignored. They’ve got something important to say and they come up with the dumbest possible way to say it. I didn’t want to be one of those guys.
Okay, I said, a couple months ago I saw something weird—
And suddenly Max was there between us. “Please don’t,” he said.
Trust me, I told him.
St. George nodded. “Something weird. Got it.”
“He’s not ready to hear this, Barry,” said Max. “And you’ve got no way to prove it.”
I started to say something and bit my lip. So to speak. I think it makes a little sizzling sound in the air.
“You’ve got no physical evidence I’m here,” the ghost said. “None at all. And you know Stealth is going to demand proof once St. George tells her. So at best they’re going to think you’re making it up and wasting their time.”
I knew he was right. We’d had this conversation a dozen times already. This was the second time we’d done it one-sided in front of George. Once it was in front of Danielle. Heck, I’d just been having it in my own head.
“At worse, they think you’re losing it,” said Max. “And once they start thinking that, we’ll never convince them when we’re ready to do everything else.”
Yeah, I said without thinking.
“We’ve got to wait until we can prove it.”
George was still waiting.
You know what, I told him, you’ve got stuff to do.
“Sooooo … you didn’t see something weird?”
It was just … just a movie. I wanted to tell you about it. It can wait.
Max sighed in relief.
George nodded. “Okay. Maybe if we find some microwave popcorn out there we can do a movie night or something this weekend. We haven’t just hung out in a few weeks.”
I smiled, even though it’s wasted in the energy form. Well, I’ve been hanging out, I said with a wave at the electric chair.
He smirked. “Got to go. I’m supposed to check in with Stealth before we head out. We’re trying the chain mail today.”
Excellent, I said. If it works out, tell everyone I’m going to be pushing for a reenactment of Lord of the Rings. With all the stuff Peter Jackson left out.
He chuckled and stepped outside. I could see him through the walls. His aura flared and he sailed into the sky. I’ve always meant to tell him it does that.
And then I remembered the other important thing. Damn it, I mutter.
“What?”
I forgot to have him put the new DVDs in.
Max laughed. “Thanks for not telling him,” he said. “I know it’s a pain, lying to him.”
It’d be easier if you’d stop trying to butt into every conversation.
“Sorry.”
I nodded. So, we’ve got no new movies, I said. Let’s start figuring how we’re going to prove you’re real.
“Sounds good to me.”
Two smart guys like us, I said, how long could it take?
OKAY, SAID ZZZAP, I think I’ve got it this time.
Another burst of static roared from the stereo speakers. St. George and Danielle sighed. Stealth didn’t move a muscle, but impatience radiated off her like heat.
“Barry, come on,” said St. George. “I think this has gone on long enough.”
Hang on, he said. If this was easy everybody’d be doing it. He focused on the stereo again.
The speakers popped and said, “Work this time?”
Got it, said Zzzap.
“Oh my God,” said the stereo. “I was starting to think I’d never hear my own voice again.” There were a few quick snaps and a squelch of static. “Can you all hear me okay? You can understand me?”
St. George looked at Zzzap. “Is this it?”
The brilliant figure nodded.
“So, we’re hearing a ghost on your sound system?”
“Actually, you’re talking to a ghost on his sound system,” said the speakers. “I can hear you, too.”
“If this is intended as a joke,” said Stealth, “I do not find it amusing.”
“Ask me anything,” the stereo said. “I’ll prove it’s me.”
“You being Cairax,” said St.
George. He glanced at Zzzap.
“Well, me being Max Hale, but that’s probably how you think of me, yeah.” The speakers popped twice. “George, you and I met down in Venice Beach right around Christmas. There were some rich kids beating up a homeless guy for kicks. I made two of them wet their pants. You were down there doing a random patrol and you thought I was attacking the kids.”
“I’ve told you this story,” St. George said to the glowing figure. “It doesn’t prove anything when you say it’s a ghost telling it.”
I’m just translating, said Zzzap. He’s doing all the talking.
“Sure he is,” said Danielle. She glanced at Stealth. “Y’know, the armor’s way behind in maintenance, and I don’t like trusting it to Cesar and Gibbs. I should probably go.”
“Barry,” began St. George.
“Cerberus, you and I never met,” interrupted the stereo, “but you ended up replacing me on one of the task forces in the fall of 2009. You’d been in L.A. for about a month and—”
“After three years,” Stealth told Zzzap, “there are very few stories regarding the past you can tell which we do not all know. If you wish to convince us you are speaking for a ghost, you will need to tell us something you could not know.”
I’m not talking. I’m just translating what he’s saying into radio waves so you can all hear—WHAT?!? Zzzap looked at St. George, then Stealth, and then over at the corner of the room.
“What’s wrong?” asked St. George.
The wraith looked at his friend again, then his gaze settled on Stealth. You’re Karen, he said. You’re the woman from dinner.
Danielle sighed again and Stealth crossed her arms. “This is nothing you could not have deduced on your own,” said the cloaked woman. Her head shifted to St. George for a moment before she took a few steps toward the rings of the electric chair. “It might be best if you returned to human form for the time being,” she said. “We should discuss certain matters which are better resolved before you resume—”
Max says you were on top last night.
Stealth froze. So did St. George. Danielle’s eyes went wide, and her expression went back and forth from amusement to horror.
Sorry.
Stealth’s pose shifted. Her arms hung straight at her sides. “That statement refers to which of us?”
The speakers popped again. “To you, Stealth,” said the stereo. “I was wandering around, thought I’d check in on you two, and caught you guys … in the middle of things. At St. George’s place. I can give more details if you like.”
“That will not be necessary,” said the cloaked woman. St. George saw her face shift beneath her mask. If it was anyone else he’d guess she was confused. The closest Stealth got to confusion was sudden reassessment.
A few moments of silence passed.
“Wait a minute,” said Danielle. “This is real? Holy shit, Max, this is really you?”
“In the flesh. Just, y’know, without any actual flesh.”
Stealth crossed her arms. “For the moment I am willing to accept the premise you are a separate being from Zzzap. I do not yet believe you are a supernatural entity.”
“How’d you survive?” asked St. George. “I mean, I crushed your skull. Or your zombie’s skull.”
“I didn’t survive.”
“So you jumped bodies like Legion does?”
“No, George, I didn’t survive. I died. That’s where the whole ‘being a ghost’ thing comes into it.”
Stealth crossed her arms. “So you claim you have been a disembodied spirit here at the Mount since your death?”
“Well, not exactly,” said the stereo. “That’s where it gets a little tricky.”
“Go on.”
The speakers crackled for a moment. “You all know I had my Sativus medallion that let me transform into Cairax. He’s a demon from the Abyss and I was hijacking his body every time I put the medallion on. This is the kind of thing that can get you into trouble in the long run, so I had some backups installed.”
“Installed where?” asked Danielle.
“On me. That’s what a lot of my tattoos were. They were wards and guards to make sure Cairax couldn’t get me after I died. Being dead was my safe house, if you like.” The speakers crackled like a potato chip bag. “Demons can’t affect the dead unless said dead person falls into their sphere of influence—if they’re going to hell. Otherwise, they can’t touch you.”
“So your plan was going to heaven?”
“No, that’s way too big a gamble for someone like me who’s done a lot of magic,” the stereo explained. “I was just aiming to make sure my spirit got bound to Earth so I’d have time to work through a few things and rack up a few more karma points.
“What I didn’t count on was the ex-virus. The idea that my body could die and still be walking around on its own. All my preparations sort of jammed up and I got trapped in there for a year or so until George destroyed my physical body.”
“Sorry about that,” said St. George.
“Don’t be. That’s what let everything start working again.”
“I hate to agree with Stealth,” said Danielle, “but I’m still not sure I buy this whole ‘magic’ thing.”
The stereo chuckled. “You realize you’re saying that to a ghost, right?”
“A ghost according to you. I never did buy all your magic talk.”
“Okay,” said the stereo, “let’s look at it this way. If you hold out your hand, turn your wrist, and stomp your foot down, does it transport you across the country?”
Only if you’re wearing ruby slippers, said Zzzap.
“Don’t interrupt,” said the stereo. “It’s important they all believe this.”
“No, of course not,” said Danielle.
“But if you’re sitting in a car it works, right?”
“Well … yeah. But that’s different.”
“Not at all. It’s the same thing. We’re agreeing that if you make the right gestures in the right place it’s possible to get a result you can’t get by doing the same thing in other places or under different conditions. And once you’ve got the car moving you can change the location those gestures work at so you can do it again.”
“And you claim this is how magic works.” It wasn’t so much a question from Stealth as a challenge.
“In a really simple way, yeah,” said the stereo. “I mean, there’s a lot more to why a car works than just pushing down on the gas. There’s more to magic, too, but it comes down to knowing the right gestures and places and conditions.”
“So what happens now?” asked St. George. “Do we need to do some ritual or exorcism or something to let you move on?”
“Not exactly,” said the stereo. “I’ve been looking for a new body. I can move into one that’s more or less whole and take control of it, that’s not a problem. After a few hours my own animus gets absorbed into the cells and I’d be alive again. The catch has been where I do it.”
“Explain,” said Stealth.
“Well, it wouldn’t do me much good to resurrect outside, would it? The minute the body came back to life I’d get attacked by a dozen or so exes.”
“And there aren’t any bodies inside the Mount because we blow their brains out the minute they die,” said St. George with a nod.
“Right,” said the stereo. “I tried it outside a couple times anyway. I figured I’d signal whoever was at the gate to let me in, but all the bodies outside are pretty far gone. They’re stiff and most of their vocal cords are raw and useless. Every time I got up to the gates I’d get shot or piked before I could do anything. I even tried jumping into a dead actor once, a guy I found wandering around out by Raleigh. The one from that space worm-zombie movie, irony of ironies. I figured celebrity status might buy me a few more minutes. Plus it was when the Krypton guys were first showing up, so I was hoping people might be hesitant to start firing guns. We all know how that turned out.”
St. George nodded. He glanced at Zzzap.
“This is why you wish us to let Hiram Jarvis reanimate if he dies,” said Stealth. “You wish to use his body and resurrect yourself.”
The speakers were quiet for a moment. “Yeah, that’s basically it,” said the stereo.
“I think maybe we should get Father Andy in on this,” said St. George. “This whole discussion is getting into a weird area.”
“Feel free,” said the speakers. “Nothing against Barry, but I’m feeling very talkative.”
“And then?” Stealth asked.
“Then what?”
“Why return yourself to life only to be mortal and face death again? What do you gain from it?”
“Well, I’m not dead, for starters.”
“Not yet. All of us will face an end, though. Will you then attempt to cheat death again?”
“Believe me, Stealth,” the stereo said, “in the end all of us try to cheat death. I was just better prepared to do it than most folks.”
SINCE THEY’D MOVED all the Mount’s medical facilities to Hollywood Community, there was plenty of room for Dr. Connolly to have an actual office. There still wasn’t enough of a medical staff for her to be far away from the patients, though, even with Eddie Franklin and some of the others. And being by herself in the mostly empty hospital gave her the creeps at night. Instead, she set up camp at the nurse’s station of whatever floor had the most patients. It was where St. George found her.
“Morning, doctor.”
“Good morning,” she said. “To what do I owe the honor?”
“I’m visiting some of your patients.”
She nodded. “Eddie’s finishing up some tests with the girl, Madelyn. I should have complete results for you soon.”
“What do you think so far?”
“About her?” Connolly shook her head and swept back a lock of crimson hair threaded with silver. “I can tell you I might have been wrong earlier. I don’t think she’s an ex.”
“What?”
“I don’t think she’s an ex. She’s just … dead.”
“But she has to be,” said St. George. “She’s walking around and she—”
The doctor shook her head. “I’ve run her blood work twice. I can’t find the ex-virus in her. Not a trace of it anywhere. Not a trace of anything, in fact. No secondary infections, no old scars, nothing. My first impression is she’s in incredible health.”