“Beats me,” JC said quietly. “I’m glad it’s happening at all. I would be the first to admit that I have never known what it is they see in each other. Their relationship would baffle a whole coven of psychiatrists. Hopefully, the shared experiences of this case will bind them together again.”
“I have always admired your optimism, darling,” said Kim.
“It’s the only way to survive, working with those two,” said JC. “Or, indeed, with the Carnacki Institute. Melody! Are you getting anything useful?”
“Nothing worth reporting,” growled Melody, not taking her eyes off the glowing lap-top screen. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear everything here was hiding from me. Bastards.”
“So far, all the supernatural activity we’ve encountered has been limited to the upper floor,” said JC. “Nothing’s come down here after us. So, Melody, I think we need to provoke a response. See what you can do. Happy, reach out and make contact with Something. Feel free to be extremely annoying.”
Melody grinned broadly, tapping rapidly away at her keyboard. Happy looked thoughtful. Kim leaned in close to JC again.
“Darling, is this wise?”
“Probably not,” JC said cheerfully.
Brook shifted uneasily behind the bar-counter. “What, precisely, are you doing?” he said. “What is Ms. Chambers up to with that lap-top?”
“Something very technical that you and I couldn’t hope to understand,” said JC. “Being the mere mortals that we are. But I have seen Melody work miracles with far less tech, and I have no doubt that she will annoy the hell out of whatever may be lurking in the vicinity. Don’t ask me how. Really, don’t. Ghost Finder science is very inexact.”
“Only because you don’t understand it,” said Melody. “Don’t worry, I’ll soon stir these ghostly little shits up and make them squeal like piggies . . .”
“You want to get the ghosts mad at us?” said Brook, incredulously. “Okay; that is it. I am leaving.”
“Finally!” said Happy. “A sane man, a kindred spirit, a man after my own heart! Get your coat, Brook, and I’ll hold the door open for you.”
“Stand your ground, both of you!” JC said sternly. “Happy, concentrate. Melody, anything yet?”
“I am pumping all kinds of psychic chaff into the aether,” said Melody, still pounding away at her lap-top. “I am disrupting all the local dimensional frequencies and playing merry hell with all the paranormal patterns I can reach.”
JC looked at Brook. “Told you we wouldn’t understand. Are you actually achieving anything, Melody?”
“She’s giving me one hell of a headache,” growled Happy.
“Me, too,” said Kim, frowning.
“Good,” Melody said briskly. “That means it’s working.”
All the windows in the main bar suddenly slammed open, and the storm burst in. A bitterly cold wind blasted through the bar, knocking over everything that wasn’t nailed down. Overthrown tables and chairs were sent somersaulting the length of the bar, smashing into each other with vicious force. Glasses and drinks abandoned by regulars who’d left in a rush flew through the air, smashing against the walls. The wind roared through the bar, carrying the rain with it, soaking the curtains and the carpets.
Melody crouched protectively over her precious equipment. Happy and JC huddled together. Brook crouched behind the bar-counter, crying out with shock. Kim stood where she was, peering uncertainly around her, as chairs and other things tumbled straight through her insubstantial form. JC yelled to Melody, raising his voice to be heard over the din of the storm.
“You’ve definitely got Something’s attention, Melody! Any idea what?”
“Beats the hell out of me! The readings don’t make any sense!” Melody yelled back, fighting to be heard over the storm. “But this is nothing to do with ghosts! It’s only weather!”
“Could be poltergeists!” yelled Happy. “Is it poltergeists?”
“Not according to these readings!” said Melody.
Her last few shouted words fell into a sudden silence. The storm had broken off as abruptly as it began, the wind dropping away to nothing. The last of the rain fell away, leaving puddles on the floor. More ran down the walls, and dripped from the bottoms of soaked curtains. The sudden hush was almost brutal, after the rage of the storm. Tables and chairs crashed to a halt and were still, and the windows stopped slamming open and shut. JC and Happy let go of each other and moved quickly around the bar, shutting the windows and fastening them securely. They could still hear the storm howling outside, but now at a safe distance. It wasn’t trying to get in, any more. Kim was still looking about her, frowning prettily. Happy went over to Melody, who only had eyes for her lap-top.
“Well?” said JC. “Anything?”
“No,” said Melody. “That . . . appears to be it. I prodded the local power source with my science stick, and that was what we got in response. A very basic reaction. Interesting . . .”
“But what does it mean?” said Brook, rising very cautiously from behind the bar-counter.
“I’ll have to think about it,” said Melody.
She stared at her lap-top screen with such complete concentration she didn’t even realise Happy was still standing over her. He nodded, gave up, and went back to JC. Who knew a man who needed distracting when he saw one.
“All right, Happy, you’re up.”
“What do you want me to do?” said Happy, not unreasonably.
“Reach out!” said JC, waving his arms around in what he hoped was a meaningful way. “Make contact with . . . Something! Slap it around the head in your own special psychic way and get it to talk to you. Say nasty things about its mother . . .”
Happy shrugged briefly and concentrated. Melody finally realised what he was doing and shut down her tech so it wouldn’t interfere with his efforts. Brook looked like he wanted to duck behind the bar-counter again, but JC glared at him till he held his ground. Kim stared at Happy, fascinated, and went back to hover beside JC.
“Do you have any idea why the storm invaded the bar?” JC said quietly.
“It wasn’t just a storm,” said Kim. “I could feel anger in it . . .”
“All right!” Happy said loudly. He was frowning so hard it must have been painful, but he was also grinning in a really unpleasant way. “Everybody please shut the hell up and pay attention! Look around you! We are very definitely not alone here!”
Everyone looked up and down the wrecked and waterlogged main bar, but there was no-one else present that they could see. Everything seemed perfectly still and quiet. And then all the bar taps turned themselves on at once, and a dozen frothing liquids fell to the floor. Beers and ciders and lagers, all spouting out of the opened taps. Brook cried out and ran up and down the bar, closing the taps one after another. But the moment he moved on, the closed taps opened themselves up again. Brook swore loudly, as the floor behind the counter flooded. And then all the bottles on display at the back of the bar exploded, one after another; blasting vicious glass shrapnel through the air. Brook came running out from behind the counter, his arms up to protect his head.
JC grabbed him and pulled him down, away from the flying glass. Happy was already crouching, both arms wrapped around his head. Melody stayed where she was, peering out from behind her lap-top. And Kim stood still, letting things pass through her with complete indifference. Slowly, things began to quiet down. There were no bottles left to explode, and the taps began to run dry, one after another.
And then, the overturned tables and chairs began to rock back and forth, as though gathering strength and determination. They rolled slowly along the floor towards the besieged people, gathering speed. There was a blind, brutal intent behind their advance, as they headed straight for JC and Happy, Brook and Melody. Kim strode forward to block their way, one hand held out imperiously. The tables and chairs rolled straight through her.
Melody straightened up, her machine-pistol at the ready. She opened fire on the nearest table, a
nd blew it apart with a stream of bullets. Broken wood and jagged splinters flew on the air. But it only took Melody a moment to realise there was far too much furniture, and nowhere near enough bullets. She couldn’t hope to stop them all. The rolling tables and chairs kept coming, faster and faster. Dangerously fast, with so much weight behind them.
The overhead lights started to flicker off and on, so that the whole bar went from light to dark, light to dark.
“They’re destroying my pub!” screamed Brook. “Do Something!”
“This is us, doing something,” said JC.
“Hell with the pub!” said Happy. “I refuse to die by furniture! Do Something, JC!”
The floor-boards suddenly rose and fell, rippling like a slow wave on a wooden sea. Great ragged cracks shot across the walls and ceiling, creaking and groaning loudly, as though the bar was trying to tear itself apart. Tables and chairs rattled and somersaulted across the uneven floor, heading straight for JC and Brook, Melody and Happy, picking up speed all the time. JC stepped forward to meet them, and produced a small round object from his jacket pocket. It shone brightly, the size of a cricket ball. JC held it out before him.
“See this?” he said loudly. “This is an exorcism grenade. Ready to blast holy sanctified light all over the vicinity! So stop this nonsense right now. Or else.”
A floor-board lurched suddenly up under his feet, throwing him off-balance for a moment. JC pulled the pin from the grenade and tossed it lightly into the midst of the on-coming furniture. He turned to Kim.
“Get out of here! Right now! It won’t be safe for you in here when this thing goes off!”
Kim nodded quickly and dived across the room, running straight through the outer wall, and on into the car park outside. JC turned back to the advancing chairs and tables and stood his ground, arms folded defiantly across his chest. There was a silent blast of overpowering, unbearable light, as the exorcism grenade exploded, filling the bar from one end to the other. And then it was gone. There was a pause, and the electric lights came back on, bright and calm and steady. The tables and chairs rolled to a halt and lay side by side on the quiet floor; rocking slowly back to inactivity again. Everything in the main bar was still and quiet. There was an overwhelming feeling of calm and peace. JC smiled cheerfully about him.
“Let this be a warning to one and all,” he said loudly. “I am not always bluffing.”
Happy looked at him. “An exorcism grenade? I thought those things were banned from field use, pending further testing?”
“I just tested it,” said JC.
“One of these days they’re going to catch you filling your pockets with whatever you fancy from the Carnacki warehouse,” said Melody.
“What the Boss doesn’t know about won’t give her sleepless nights,” said JC.
Kim stuck her head back through the wall and looked about her. “Is that it? Is it safe for me to come back in now?”
“Please don’t do that,” said Happy. “It’s like looking at a serial killer’s mounted trophy.”
“Get back in here, Kim,” said JC.
The ghost girl walked calmly through the wall, ignoring Happy with magnificent disdain, and considered the vanquished furniture, lying scattered the length of the main bar. She nodded, clearly expecting nothing less, and smiled brilliantly at JC. The two of them gave each other their almost but not quite high five.
“Well,” Kim said pleasantly, “you wanted to provoke a response, darling. I’d say you succeeded.”
“Look what you’ve done to my bar!” said Brook, almost hysterically.
“Not a bad reaction, as reactions go,” said JC, ignoring the barman. “Surprisingly, however; nothing at all to do with ghosts . . . Right then; if the ghost won’t come to the bar . . . Adrian! Adrian; where are you . . . Ah, there you are! Stop sulking and pay attention. I think you need to show me the room where your dead girl-friend is still waiting around.”
Brook moved forward, reluctantly. “You think Lydia’s got something to do with all this?”
“I don’t know,” said JC. “But she’s what brought you back, and it was only after you returned that all this started up again. So I think I need to take a look, maybe have a nice little chat with the young lady. See what she has to say for herself. Happy, Melody, you stay here in the bar. Keep an eye on things. And slap them down hard if they look like they’re getting out of hand again. I hereby authorise you to use excessive force because that’s the only kind you two understand anyway.”
“I’m not cleaning this up!” Melody said immediately, glaring at the mess around her. “I do not do cleaning up!”
“It’s true,” said Happy. “She doesn’t. But since I really don’t want to go back upstairs yet, I’m prepared to do a little light tidying, as long as it doesn’t involve actual effort.”
“I want to go see the ghost,” said Melody, sticking out her lower lip. “Why can’t I go and see the ghost? I’ll be quiet.”
“Too many people at once might frighten her,” JC said firmly. “Besides, do you really want to leave Happy down here, on his own?”
Melody shot a quick look at Happy and said nothing. JC turned to Kim.
“Be a dear, Kim, and go take a proper look outside. Several quick circuits of the pub, then go flit around the fields. See if you can track down this mysterious local power source. But don’t go too far, or get too close to anything unnatural. I’m becoming increasingly convinced that with this much raw power around, there are dangers here for the dead as well as the living.”
“Anything for you, sweetie,” said Kim. And she strode determinedly back through the wall again. Brook shuddered quickly and headed for the stairs at the back of the bar. JC went with him.
“Lydia’s room is at the far end of the landing,” Brook said quietly. “Every now and again I unlock the door and take a quick look inside. Make sure she’s still there, and that she’s . . . all right. But I never go in.”
He started up the stairs, but JC stopped him with a sharp gesture. Brook started to say something, and JC gestured savagely for him to be quiet. JC stood very still at the bottom of the stairs, hidden in the shadows, and listened carefully. Because he wanted to know what Happy and Melody might say once they thought he wasn’t around. Because he needed to know how things really were with them.
There was a long pause, then . . .
“Just because I’m talking to you again, it doesn’t necessarily mean you’re forgiven,” said Melody.
“I had sort of got that,” said Happy. “Even though I’m still not sure why you’re so mad at me.”
“You have got to be kidding,” said Melody. “Really? Why am I so mad at you? You went back on your pills, and you didn’t tell me! Are you crazy?”
“Sometimes,” said Happy. “Goes with the territory. We both do what we have to, to survive what the hidden world throws at us. You lean on your machines, I lean on my medications.”
“My machines aren’t killing me by inches!” snapped Melody.
“But I can’t live without my support mechanisms,” said Happy.
“Aren’t I enough for you?” said Melody.
“I hoped you would be,” said Happy. “God knows I wanted you to be everything I needed. You did try. I know that. But you can’t protect me from the pressures of the hidden world the way my pills can. Every day, it gets that little bit harder to keep the bad stuff outside my head. I’m fighting a war, Mel; and I’m losing.”
“Oh, Happy . . .” said Melody. And JC winced to hear the helplessness in her voice.
There was another long pause, and then . . .
“Isn’t there any special tech you could put together, to help me?” said Happy. He sounded very tired, and desperate. “Some machine that would shut down my ESP and make the world bearable?”
“I have done some research,” said Melody. She sounded tired, too. “The only thing I found that might work would just as likely destroy your mind. Lobotomise you. You wouldn’t be you any more.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Happy said gently. “I think . . . I’d find that a relief.”
Another long pause.
“Is there nothing else I can do for you?” said Melody.
“Yes,” said Happy. “Hold me, while I’m dying.”
SEVEN
DARK NIGHT OF THE SOUL
JC followed Brook up the stairs, sticking close behind the barman so he couldn’t slow down, or have second thoughts. Brook stepped out onto the landing, looked quickly around him into the gloom, took a deep breath, and turned on the lights. JC moved quickly off the top step and onto the landing beside the barman. After listening to Brook’s tales of terror about what the rooms got up to, JC was ready to see the landing with new eyes; but instead he was pleasantly surprised to find it looked like a landing. A long corridor stretching away to both sides, illuminated by reassuringly steady electric lights, with all the doors safely closed. Nothing moved anywhere, and everything seemed entirely still and quiet and peaceful.
JC looked at Brook. The barman was doing his best to look prepared and composed, but already a fresh sheen of sweat was appearing on his grey, haunted face. He looked like a man going to his own execution. He looked like a man . . . who had good reason to be scared. JC patted Brook on the shoulder, and gave the barman his best reassuring smile. Brook did not appear particularly convinced.
After looking up and down the corridor several times, Brook gathered up his nerve and led the way down the left-hand corridor. The only sound on the quiet of the landing was the steady tread of shoes on thinly carpeted floor-boards. JC kept a careful eye on every door they passed, braced for any one of them to suddenly swing open, so Something could jump out and drag them in . . . but the doors were only doors, and didn’t so much as stir as JC and Brook passed.
Until they came to the final door, at the very end of the corridor. It looked like all the other doors. Brook stood and looked at it for a long moment, and JC had enough sense not to hurry him. Brook leaned in close, almost but not quite pressing an ear up against the wood, and listened. Then he straightened up, took out his key ring, selected one, and unlocked the door. Another deep breath, and he threw the door open and stepped back, gesturing for JC to go in.
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