by Kathy Miner
“Nobody around, as far as I can tell.”
Cass nodded and turned back to her task. To the south, the slips were more than half empty; the plague had impacted this area in the early spring, just as people would have been getting their boats out of winter storage. Of those occupied slips, many held sunken or half-submerged vessels, testament to the destructive power of a winter spent in Lake Michigan ice. Cass alternated between checking the water ahead of them for debris and trying to count boats that still looked seaworthy. She came up with six. Once again, she turned back to Luc, holding up six fingers. He held up four, and repeated his shrug.
As they’d agreed ahead of time, Luc steered them to the dock adjoining the boat launch rather than looking for an empty slip. Someone familiar with the area would instantly note their presence, but, they had reasoned, someone familiar with the area wouldn’t be fooled if they tried to hide in amongst the scattering of boats, either. If they returned to find Luc’s boat missing or damaged, they would commandeer anything still floating and punt.
As gently as a mother laying a baby in a cradle, Luc tucked the boat in next to the dock. He kept the motor running while Cass stepped onto the dock and began making the boat fast, staggering a little as she found her land legs again. When they were securely tied up, he cut the motor. Cass started straightening and rolling the sails while Luc jogged to the adjoining docks to check out the condition of the other boats they’d spotted. He returned in time to help her with the mainsail.
“Three of them look good, and we could make do with a fourth, but only if we can get the pumps running. Only one of them looks like someone’s been on board recently.” He pointed to a 45-foot catamaran, rolling gently at the end of the northernmost dock. “That one. I think someone might be living on it, but there’s no one there now.”
When they had finished stowing the sails, they stood together on the dock, listening to the soft sounds of land. Gulls called, and the wind rose and fell in soft whistles, making the halyards ring against the mast. The soft haze didn’t do much to soften the punch of the mid-summer sun, and still they stood there, staring at the dark outlines of the high-rises in downtown Milwaukee. Finally, Cass broke the silence.
“Well, I’ll go ahead and admit it. I’m scared to death to walk away from this boat. You?”
Luc’s head dropped forward, and he took a deep breath. “Jesus, yes. I know what I’m doing on the lake. Trouble comes up, I can usually find a way to handle it. Out there?” He gestured to the silent, dead city before them. “I’m afraid I’ll be worse than useless.”
Cass forced her voice to lightness and hopped back on the Grindylow. “Well, I’ll be sure to point it out to you, if you are. How many times did you make me capsize that skiff and recover from it? What? You didn’t keep count?” She drilled him with a look before she headed below. “I did.”
He joined her a few minutes later, and they loaded their backpacks in silence, taking most of what they’d brought with them. If the boat was looted, at least they wouldn’t lose much. Cass changed her deck shoes for her hiking boots, filled the water bladder in her back pack, resettled the baseball cap she never seemed to take off these days, then picked up the stout hiking stick she’d borrowed from Veda. She turned just as Luc attached a sling to his bow and adjusted it over his shoulder. Her surprise must have shown on her face, because he turned red and gestured to the bow.
“My dad made me swear I’d carry it. We don’t use guns – well, me and Bastian don’t. Dad has one, but he hasn’t taught us to use it yet. I told him I’d feel like some kind of Katniss Everdeen wannabe, but he insisted.”
“I think it’s a good idea, actually. We’re not overloaded with food. And if we run into trouble with people, maybe they’ll see it and think twice.”
“That’s exactly what he said,” Luc grumbled. “I still feel like a hick, carrying my big scary bow into the big scary city.”
Cass made a sympathetic sound but didn’t share what she was really thinking: That the city was probably going to be scarier than he’d even imagined. On her trip down the Michigan coast, if she’d sensed danger, she’d simply sailed on. She hadn’t ventured into a city the size of Milwaukee, and she had no idea what dangers they might encounter. To her, Luc’s bow seemed like a damn fine idea, especially because she was carrying nothing more threatening than a really big stick and the hunting knife Gavin had pressed on her. Veda had tried to convince her to carry a pistol – there were several people on the island who owned one and would teach her the basics – but Cass had refused. It simply wasn’t in her to aim a weapon at another person, even if her life was at stake.
They left the cabin, double-checked that the boat was properly secured, then stepped once more onto the dock. As badly as Cass wanted to hesitate yet again, she didn’t allow herself to, striding purposefully towards shore with Luc a half-step behind her. She was so preoccupied with faking a courageous attitude, she didn’t notice the spirit until it drifted right in front of them. She stopped abruptly, and Luc had to dance to the side to avoid plowing her over.
“What the –?” He followed the direction of her gaze, then looked back at her. “What is it?” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Is it...is it…oh, Jesus, is it a ghost?”
Cass reached over and gave his shoulder a reassuring pat. “Don’t worry. This is my turf. Just caught me off-guard, that’s all.”
Swiftly, she stilled her mind, centered, prayed for protection, then made contact. “We’re just passing through. Is there something we need to know, something you want to tell us?”
She’s late. She’s never late. Why isn’t she here yet?
Cass stifled a sigh as her fears were confirmed. This wasn’t a visitor from the world of spirit. This was an earthbound spirit, a lost soul. What had once been a young, robust man was now a frantic, frightened echo. He stared at her, radiating anguish and confusion.
She’s late. We were supposed to go sailing, have dinner on the boat. Why isn’t she here?
An exceptionally articulate lost soul – it was unusual to hear such complete thoughts, even more rare when the soul was confused. His voice boomed in Cass’s head, making her wince. She didn’t ask the obvious question; instead, she asked, very gently, “What’s your name?” After a long silence, the spirit’s confusion intensified.
I don’t know.
“It’s okay. I’ll help you. Tell me what your mom called you. Hear her voice calling you, maybe to come in for supper, or to wake up for school, and tell me what name she used.”
She felt the ghost’s relief as a lightening in the air all around them, as if they’d been enclosed in a noxious fog without really being aware of it.
Bryce.
“Bryce. Do you remember getting sick, Bryce? Do you remember hearing news of the plague and heading out here to the marina, maybe? Maybe you had a headache, a cough, or just a little fever?”
Rage and sorrow thickened the air. I can’t die. I run triathlons! I never get sick!
“I know, Bryce, sweetie. It’s not fair. You took care of yourself, did everything right. You were in the prime of your life. A terrible number of young, healthy, strong people died.” She paused. “But I need you to listen to me very carefully. Your soul goes on. Your soul is talking to me right now. Bryce, hon, your body did not survive. But your soul is eternal.”
Rage, softer this time, and sorrow so deep it made her bones ache with the cold. This is it, then? I’ll just be alone here forever? This is terrible. I don’t want this.
“No, that’s not how it is at all. Your loved ones are all waiting for you, waiting to welcome you to the other side.” Cass reached for the connection and began naming them for him. “Your mom, your dad, your twin sisters. And a beautiful young lady. She says her name is Jenna?”
How can I get to them? I don’t believe in an after-life. The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out. You’re just done. Is this some kind of Heaven bullshit? Because I’d rather haunt this marina than sit on some damn
cloud playing a harp.
Cass stifled her impatience. Helping earthbound spirits was not her specialty, and she wished she knew a faster way. She and Luc had a long distance to travel and they were wasting daylight, but she couldn’t walk away from this. “Humor me for a moment, Bryce. Just let your mind float away from all those beliefs. Let your mind be free of this marina, of Lake Michigan, of all the physical world around you. Reach, with your heart and your mind, for your family. Picture them. Reach for Jenna. The veil is like a curtain, and they’re waiting right on the other side. Just move the curtain aside and step through.”
The veil. That is so hokey.
Cass gritted her teeth. “Just give it a try, Bryce my man.”
The ghost’s joy was a burst of light so brilliant it made her stagger back a step. She heard his voice, calling to his family, the peace and relief in it, and one last fading echo. So beautiful…
Cass blinked. She blinked again, rubbing at her eyes, but the spots remained. She was aware of Luc, then, hovering near her elbow. “Gonna need a minute for my vision to clear.”
“Is it gone? Its name was Bryce? Did it tell you that? Was it good or evil? Were you scared?”
Cass held up a hand, stopping the deluge. “I’ll answer your questions, but first, I need to get my shields up. At this rate, we’ll make Pewaukee in about…” She turned to look behind her. They’d made it about 25 feet away from the Grindylow. “Fifteen years. Give me a second, okay?”
Cass closed her eyes and sank deep into her center. She envisioned a cone of pure white light, benevolent, impenetrable, cascading from the crown of her head to her feet. “Divine Guides and all the angels,” she murmured. “Please protect us. Please help us pass without interference from the restless and earthbound dead. I will do what I can to help them whenever I can, but our journey to my home needs to be swift. I ask that this be done, if it serves the greater good. So be it, and so it is.”
She opened her eyes to find Luc staring at her again, his black eyes shining with more than a little yearning puppy-love, which she thought he’d left behind. As many times as she’d found herself unexpectedly underwater during his lessons, she’d long since stopped being shy about evacuating water from her nasal cavities, enthusiastically when necessary. That, along with the perpetual drowned-rat look she’d been sporting, tended to wreak havoc on a crush.
“You can talk to God and the angels, too?”
Cass rolled her eyes and slugged him on the arm, none too lightly. “So can you, doofus. Everybody can. It’s called ‘prayer.’ Come on, let’s go.”
Luc hurried to catch up to her. “That prayer – it didn’t sound like the church prayers I’ve heard. It sounded like Tolkien, or Robert Jordan, or Patrick Rothfuss.”
“I was a preacher’s daughter. I grew up listening to beautiful, lavish language.” Cass hunched her shoulders forward self-consciously. No way was she going to tell Mr. Literature her prayers were heavily influenced by the fantasy role-playing video games that had been her favorite down-time indulgence in the time before.
They reached the end of the dock and headed through the parking lot of the marina. Here and there, vehicles were parked haphazardly, sometimes with bodies inside, sometimes standing open, with human remains scattered about. Passing close to one such vehicle, Luc paused with a soft exclamation of dismay.
“Cass, look at this. The long bones have been split, to get to the marrow inside.”
“Split by what?” She’d been so concerned about the humans they’d encounter, she hadn’t given a thought to other types of predators.
Luc leaned closer, although he was obviously reluctant to touch what had once been a person. “Dog or coyote, probably. Maybe a wolf, but I don’t think so, not this far south. It could be a coywolf – a coyote-wolf hybrid. They’ve been spotted in most of the northern states. Pretty good size, whatever it was.” He straightened and looked around, shifting his bow into a more accessible position. “We need to add that to our list of things to keep an eye out for.”
Cass stifled a sarcastic, “Fabulous.” Snark was not going to help. She led them away from Luc’s discovery and out onto the city streets, squinting up at the position of the sun. “It’s mid-morning or just past - we’ve got to push hard, if we want to make Pewaukee by nightfall.”
South on Lincoln Memorial Drive to pick up Brady Street via a little pedestrian walkway, then north on Warren Avenue, and they were at the Milwaukee River in a matter of minutes. Other than the abandoned cars, overgrown garden beds, and some obviously looted businesses, this area looked much as she remembered it. They scooted across the river on the dam just above the 690 Reservoir, then jogged up a steep set of stone stairs. What had once been a large, mowed open space in the middle of a shopping area was now a tangle of chest-high weeds, and they stuck to the streets instead of cutting across, picking up North Avenue. Cass paused and looked around.
“Okay, make sure you’ve got your bearings, in case you need to get back on your own. We’ll follow North Avenue until we intersect with Lisbon, remember, then angle up and catch 190.”
“Which will take us straight into Pewaukee,” Luc said impatiently. “I know. We only went over it like 27,000 times.” He hunched his shoulders and looked around. “Do you feel like we’re being watched?”
“I don’t,” Cass answered honestly, “But I’ve got my shields up, thick as I can make them.” Even so, the presence of the dead was nearly overwhelming. They were everywhere, thick as fog to her senses. “We need to go with your instincts on this. Do we need to re-route? Go back the way we came?”
Luc took a deep breath, and shut his eyes for a moment. “No,” he said after a moment, his forehead creased in concentration. “I’m getting…curiosity. Some fear. Whoever it is, they don’t want to meet us any more than we want to meet them. They’re like…bears. They feel a lot like bears. They don’t want to confront us, but they’ll fight if they have to.” He opened his eyes. “Let’s just move through as quick as we can. I’ll let you know if I pick up something more hostile.”
Onward they went, swinging south around overgrown Kilbourn Park. Sometimes, they would walk for several blocks, and the only sign that the plague had passed this way was overgrown weeds in the sidewalk cracks. Then, they might travel through five straight blocks which had been leveled by fire. They crossed I-43, which was a parking lot as far as they could see in both directions, and after an hour and a half, they reached Lisbon Avenue.
Cass paused. Heat was bouncing up off the tarmac until she felt like she was being roasted from the feet up. Not a breath of wind stirred to relieve the oppressive humidity. “Do you want to rest?”
“No.” Luc was as saturated with sweat as she was. “Let’s just go on. All these buildings – how did people stand it? Makes my skin crawl. And it’s too still. I think we’re in for some weather later on today.”
“Spoken like an island boy.” Cass re-adjusted her pack straps and took a long drink of water. “We should stop in the next hour or so to eat something, though. Let me know if you see someplace that seems particularly safe and secure, okay?”
As it turned out, it was Cass who spotted their rest stop. They were getting close to 190 when a cemetery began to unfold on the north-east side of the street, deep and green and blessedly quiet from a psychic perspective. Cass automatically looked both ways – they’d been traveling on the south side of Lisbon – then laughed at herself and jogged across. She hopped the chain-link fence and bee-lined for the deep shade under the huge old trees. The tops of marble gravestone were just visible above the tall grass. Luc had stopped short of the fence.
He called out to her. “Uh, seriously? You want to stop here?”
“I so totally do. Just c’mon – trust me!”
She couldn’t hear him, but the look on his face and the movement of his lips told her he was grousing under his breath. She swung her pack off and flopped down on the ground under one of the beautiful old trees, luxuriating in what felt like air
-conditioning after hours in the sun. Moments later, Luc joined her, but he didn’t take his pack off, nor did he sit down.
“Why a cemetery?” He looked around, eyes just a little wild, and shuddered. “This place has to be crawling with ghosts.”
“Not even one.” She sighed, driven to be honest, though he’d never know the difference. “Okay, there’s one. Fellow died mowing the lawn just on the other side of those trees, but he’s it, as far as I can tell. Have a seat. I promise you won’t be haunted while you eat your lunch.”
He didn’t bother to keep his grousing under his breath this time. “I don’t mind ghosts when they’re someone I know, I guess, but these are strangers. Ghosts of strangers. Of all the places you could pick. If this is some kind of revenge for making you capsize your skiff so many times, let me remind you that you asked me to teach you, and –”
He broke off when Cass leaned over and stuffed one of his mother’s cookies in his mouth. They both chewed in silence for a while. Then Cass handed him some venison jerky and went over the basics. “Ghosts don’t usually hang out in cemeteries, contrary to popular belief. Usually, you find them where they lived or died, or associated with a person they were close to. And to answer your question from before, no, I wasn’t afraid that Bryce was an ‘evil’ entity. Truly evil spirits are rare.” She grimaced. “Though I attracted my share of troubled souls when I was a teenager.”
“But how did you know the difference? You said Zeb was just visiting, that he wasn’t lost. How did you know Bryce was different?”
“He’d forgotten his name, for starters. Veda told me that can happen; she said it was important to reconnect the restless dead with their names, if possible. For Bryce, the idea of dying was so unacceptable, he just refused to believe it. He got stuck on the last day of his life and kept trying to make it come out the way he wanted it to.”