by H. P. Bayne
Dez huffed and leaned into his forearms on the counter. “I don’t feel very tough or strong around this sort of thing.”
“Courage isn’t about toughness, as you well know. It’s about facing down your fears and acting despite them. You do that all the time. You’re not here because you’re afraid for Sullivan. You’re here because you’re afraid for yourself—that you might fail him.”
“Like you said, the whole place is filled with negative spirits. The ones he could see were all over the place. There are far more he can’t see. If we were in a situation with living people, no way in hell I could cover him from all of them. I know enough about the paranormal world to understand it can be equally dangerous. How do I protect him from all of them?”
“You were in there with him recently. When you were immediately at his side but not in that particular cell, did anything harm him?”
“No.”
Marc cocked his head as he regarded Dez. “They don’t only see Sullivan, my friend. They see you too. You’re an intimidating presence to the living, and you’re just as intimidating to the dead. You need to give yourself more credit, and you need to have more confidence in yourself. The more you believe in your own strength, the stronger your aura will be. I can see it growing brighter already. They’ll see it too, and for most of them, that will be enough to keep them away. Sullivan will be able to decide who he communicates with and how. And anything you can’t keep away, he’s more than capable of handling.”
Marc went back to his vegetables. “I won’t even ask if that helps, because I can see it has.”
Dez grinned. “It definitely has. Thank you.”
“You can thank me by grabbing a knife and seeing to the celery. My stomach’s about to start growling like a bear.”
By the time Dez finished at Marc’s, he was feeling better. The food had been great, and Marc’s advice had been helpful, if not a little on the vague side as usual.
But as Dez drove away, the doubts creeped back in, one after another.
Multiple ghosts, Marc had said. Sully was able to get ghosts to cross over by finding the justice or the peace they needed as individuals. One mass entity wasn’t going to come with the same solutions.
Another avenue occurred to Dez as he approached the access to the freeway. Without further thought, he took the ramp leading him south. There was someone else he could ask.
The Edge Creek rail crossing wasn’t ordinarily a place Dez visited without Sully. Being here alone now, on this notably haunted rail line, felt strange but nowhere near as terrifying as it once had.
After all, he knew the spirits guarding the place now.
As he hammered a rock three times against the rail line to summon the spirits, his heart thudded against his ribs for an entirely different reason than it had in the past. This wasn’t fear anymore. It was excitement.
The light—one reminiscent of an old-style locomotive—snapped on in the distance. Dez stood back in preparation, as if a spirit train had the ability to run over him.
Then again, there probably wasn’t much a group of reapers couldn’t do.
A few seconds passed. The light suddenly grew huge, dulling as it reached him. Dez couldn’t see what Sully could. He knew because he’d been told a train stood there, remaining beyond his mortal sight.
What didn’t were the images of three men, shimmering through the darkness like bodies surfacing through water. Reapers, he’d learned, had the ability to make themselves solid—corporeal, they called it. What it meant in this instance was he could see his dead father and brother again.
Flynn and Aiden Braddock immediately swarmed in for a hug, and Dez held them there as long as possible.
“You all right, son?” came his dad’s voice in his ear.
Dez nodded, not trusting his voice around the lump that formed in his throat whenever he saw these two.
“And the family? Everyone’s fine?”
Dez finally pulled away, allowing him to study the pair. Seeing them looking as good as they were made him feel a little better. “Yeah. Everyone’s okay.”
“Same can’t be said for you,” said the third reaper—for all intents and purposes, Flynn and Aiden’s boss. “Tracker” Jack Winter stood, coolly leaning back against something invisible to Dez—the train, no doubt. “You’re on edge. What’s the problem?”
Dez went through it again for them, this time tacking on the theory Marc had provided.
At the end, Flynn peered back at Jack. “You ever see something like that?”
Jack nodded. “Yep. And so have you. Plenty of demons we mess with, they’re not so much one entity as multiple. Sometimes they start off as one, but they suck in so much other bad energy, they lose themselves to it. Think of it like a mob, spirit style. People running with a mob do things they wouldn’t ordinarily do because they take on the personality of the whole.”
“Mob mentality,” Aiden said. “So how does that solve Dez and Sully’s problem?”
“It’s not the way Sully deals with ghosts,” Flynn explained to Jack. “He treats them one on one.”
“Not this time,” Jack said. “Not if this is what we think.”
“So you agree with Marc,” Dez said.
Jack lowered his head, eyes disappearing beneath the wide brim of his hat. “Makes some sense, I’d say.”
“So what do I tell Sully? How does he work with this?”
Jack fell silent a long moment. No one else spoke, everyone waiting. Aiden cast Dez a reassuring smile, one Dez tried to return.
Finally, Jack stood up straight and approached the group. “He won’t be able to handle this his usual way. Ordinarily, I could volunteer to go in and take care of the problem for him.”
Dez loved the idea but knew a “but” was coming. He tightened his jaw and waited.
“No way we can go in there with a television crew around,” Jack said. “Way we need to do things, we might not go completely unnoticed. We work in the shadows. Going public’s not an option.”
“Even if we’re in spirit form?” Flynn asked.
Jack eyed Flynn. “Prisons are tricky. You’ve got bad entities everywhere, and most have decided to stay there because they know they’re not taking a one-way trip to heaven. They don’t take kindly to reapers in places like that. You could find yourself in the middle of a full-on battle. Fine by me most times, but not in this scenario. I’ll be honest. If Sullivan can handle this on his own—and I truly believe he can—then that’s the way to play this.”
Flynn turned fully to face Jack. While Sully wasn’t his blood son, he was his son nonetheless, and the familiar haunches had gone up. “On his own? You just finished saying we’d be looking at war going in there, and you want my son to do this by himself?”
Jack held up a hand, palm forward, a call for calm. “You need to understand, Flynn. Sullivan is far more powerful than any of us. He’s got abilities and strength we can’t match. Trick is his figuring out how to use it.” He turned back to Dez. “Tell us when and where, and we’ll be right outside, ready to move in if needed. I don’t know how much we can realistically do under the circumstances, but we’ll provide what backup we can. Still like it better if he could manage as much as possible on his own.”
Flynn didn’t appear sold. Neither was Dez, for that matter. “You said he’d need to learn how to do this,” Dez said. “How’s that supposed to happen?”
Jack lifted a corner of his mouth. “I’m not about to leave him high and dry, Dez. Where is he? I’ll go talk to him.”
Dez’s mind turned to what Sully might well be up to now. “Uh, could it possibly wait until tomorrow? He’s kind of busy.”
Aiden chortled. “He’s getting it on, isn’t he?”
Dez smirked. “No one says ‘getting it on,’ anymore, you dork.”
“I think this is worth the interruption,” Flynn said. “Don’t you?”
Dez gritted his teeth, but ultimately nodded. Important as Sully’s time with Sarah was, his safety ca
me first.
“Come with me,” Dez said. “I’ll take you to him.”
Jack smiled. “I’m a reaper, my friend. Give me a general location, and I’ll find him myself.”
12
Sully held Sarah to him as they lay in bed.
They’d picked up something to eat and had put on a movie, but as usual, they hadn’t made it half an hour in before they were wrapped up in each other. He grinned into the darkness of the room. Three times they’d started that stupid movie. He wasn’t sure he’d ever find out how it ended.
And right now, he didn’t care.
He turned his head, gently kissing the crown of Sarah’s head.
She hummed, her breath tickling his bare chest. “Hey,” she greeted groggily, a sign she’d fallen asleep.
“Hey,” he said.
She lifted her head, turning deep brown eyes and a warm smile up at him. “How you doin’?”
He returned the smile. “Better than I was coming in here.”
She patted fingers against his chest. “I’m sorry you weren’t able to figure out more about what you’re facing going in there.” She lifted her hand, tracing the bruise around his throat. Her brow furrowed. “It’s going to be dangerous.”
He tried for a reassuring expression. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“I could come with you, you know. I wouldn’t have a clue what to do, but if there’s any way I can help, I will.”
“You’ve given me plenty of help already.”
She stretched to kiss him. “You’re sweet, but I’m serious. Is there anything I can do to help?”
He shook his head. “Doing what I do is kind of a solo thing.”
“Not entirely,” came a voice from the corner of the darkened room.
Sully jumped and sat up, eyes darting around the room.
“What?” Sarah asked. She, too, had sat up to look, although it was clear she hadn’t heard what Sully had.
Sully pulled up the duvet to cover her.
Sarah seemed to clue in as she huddled closer to him. “Oh my God. It’s a ghost, isn’t it?”
Sully continued to stare until, at last, he spotted movement and the glint of two eyes. His heart rate settled as the spirit drifted forward, revealing itself as Tracker Jack Winter. The disturbing coal black eyes told Sully he was currently in spirit form. Sarah wouldn’t see him.
Just as well under the circumstances.
Jack touched the brim of his hat in greeting. “Sorry to interrupt. Need to speak with you. I’ll be right out there.”
Sully nodded wordlessly, and Jack disappeared.
“What is it?” Sarah asked, clutching the duvet to her chest.
“It’s okay,” Sully said. “He’s a friend.”
“Kind of an awkward sort of friend, popping in on us like this, no?”
Sully smirked. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Jack’s a reaper.”
Her brows shot up. “What? Serious?” She grimaced and placed a hand against Sully’s chest. “Wait a sec. He’s not here for one of us, is he?”
“Not the way you think.” Sully stood and scanned the floor for the clothes he’d tossed off earlier. Sarah did the same on the other side of the bed.
Sully left the room before Sarah did, finding Jack seated at the kitchen table, still in spirit form. Sarah emerged a moment later, and Sully cast an eye over Jack.
“Hey, Jack, this is my girlfriend, Sarah.” He turned toward her. “Sarah, I know you can’t see him, but—”
She yelped.
Check that. She could see him.
Sully turned to find Jack had gone corporeal, evidenced by the entirely normal, blue, human eyes now regarding them.
Sully watched to see whether Sarah would freak out at Jack’s sudden materialization. Instead, her face split into a wide grin. “Oh my God. That is amazing! Can you do it again?”
Jack touched the brim of his hat, blinked out into spirit form, then back into corporeal mode.
Sarah laughed. “Wow. That is so cool!” She turned to Sully. “Isn’t he cool?”
Sully smirked, turning his gaze from Sarah back to Jack. “He likes to think so,” he teased.
Sarah approached and extended a hand, then pulled it back abruptly. “Sorry. Is it okay to shake your hand?”
Jack took the hand. “You won’t die.” He winked. “Not today, anyway.”
Sully rolled his eyes as Jack kissed the back of Sarah’s hand. “Okay, Jack, enough charming my girlfriend. I’m guessing you popped in for a reason?”
Jack grinned up at Sully. “I did. And don’t worry. I wasn’t there long.”
Sully pulled out the chair nearest Jack and sat. “How considerate.”
“Anyone want anything to drink?” Sarah asked.
Jack tilted his head. “Not necessary in my case though I appreciate the offer.”
Flushing, Sarah sat. “Of course. Makes sense.”
Jack blinked back to spirit form, allowing him to ask Sully a question privately. Reapers, Sully had learned, were the only spirits he could hear. “You okay discussing this in front of Sarah?”
Sully nodded and Jack returned to corporeal form.
“I can’t get over that,” Sarah said.
“We need to talk about your job tomorrow night,” Jack told Sully.
Sully raised a brow. “How’d you know about my job?”
“Let’s just say your brother’s a worrier.”
Sully sighed, dropped his head and gave it a shake. “Dez went to see you.”
“He’s worried, and from where I sit, he has reason to be. Not saying you can’t handle it; you can. But you need to be prepared.” He touched Sully’s jaw, enabling him to turn his head and get a better look at the bruise on his neck. “Looks like it already did a number on you.”
“You said ‘it,’ not ‘he’,” Sully noted.
Jack sat back. “Yeah, there’s a reason for that. We talked about this down at Edge Creek, and we’ve concluded what you could be dealing with here is a sort of mob entity.”
“A what now?”
“Might be some expert out there who’s come up with a better term. I call them mob entities—a grouping of spirits that eventually take on the same personality and become one entity instead of multiple. Think about the thing you can do, drawing in other spirits and using their energy. You can control it now, but when you first started, did you sometimes worry you were losing yourself to them?”
“I still do sometimes. Depends on the ghost. If they’re really negative, it can be hard to work around it.”
“So you have a rough idea of what you’re facing. Could be the cell doing it. Walls soak up the things that happen within them. We’re talking about a prison here. Could be spirits once held in there weren’t able to leave. Get enough souls bouncing around in there, they’re going to bump into each other. Eventually, the energy could join up. Rage and fear—it doesn’t end with death. You know that as well as I do. What you end up with is one big, bad entity, a conglomeration of ghosts.”
“Why is everything happening now?” Sully asked. “I mean, it must have been around a while, but the attacks are a recent occurrence.”
Jack paused before answering. “Maybe it never had reason before. If the only people who stayed there before were other prisoners, could be it felt something in common with them. You get people in there treating the place like an amusement park, bet your ass it’s going to lash out.”
“I didn’t treat it that way,” Sully said.
“No. You’re worse. You’re someone with the power to send it packing.”
Sully massaged at the bridge of his nose. “What happened to the easy ghosts?”
“You’ll get those too. But I’m sorry, my friend; your abilities have pushed you into the major leagues. Means you don’t get to go up against little league pitchers as often as you’d like.”
Sully peered up at Jack and quirked up a corner of his mouth. “Since when did nineteenth-century lawmen make baseball analogi
es?”
“I’ve been around a long time,” Jack said. “Switching out my analogies makes existence less dull.”
Sarah had been quiet throughout the conversation. Now she sat forward. “So how is Sully supposed to handle this thing? It sounds dangerous.”
“Oh, it’s dangerous, all right,” Jack said. “Deadly dangerous. But then, so is Sully.”
Sarah lifted her brows, and Jack nodded. “Oh, make no mistake. He comes off all sweet and sensitive, but this fella here’s capable of fashioning himself into a spiritual one-man war machine.” He eyed Sully. “You only need to remember that, Sullivan.”
“All fine, except it doesn’t tell me how to actually deal with this thing.” Sully tilted his head at Jack. “Any chance you can take it with you to the other side?”
“We could, but it’ll be a fight, and a bad one. I’m good, Sully, but you can do things I can’t. I need to use existing doorways to move spirits through. I think you can create them.”
“I’ve heard that before, but I still don’t understand how. Not exactly.”
“You create them without even knowing it. You do it every time you help a spirit cross over. You don’t need to take them to an existing door once they’re ready to go. You just do it right where they stand and”—Jack snapped his fingers—“they’re gone.”
“I don’t do it consciously though. This time, I’m going to have to.”
“Maybe it’s a matter of changing your mindset on it. Instead of waiting for them to tell you they’re ready, you decide they’re ready. Once you have, might be the door will appear.”
“I never see the door. How will I even know it’s there?” Sully dropped his elbows on the table and his head into his hands. “None of this makes any sense. People’s lives are in my hands, and I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. Maybe I can draw this entity in and take it to Edge Creek.”