Kindred Spirits

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Kindred Spirits Page 25

by Jean Marie Bauhaus


  “Because getting caught is still not an option.” His shoulders slumped in defeat, Derek glanced at the others. Then he made his way toward the opening. “Derek, no,” Chris said through gritted teeth. “He’ll kill us all anyway. Don’t make it easier for him!”

  Derek halted, uncertain. Hanson’s breath huffed against her hair. “She’s right. I’ll kill you all anyway. But it doesn’t have to be quick and easy.”

  As if to illustrate his point, he let go of Chris long enough to slam the butt of the pistol against her wounded thigh. Derek and the others shouted something at him, but Chris couldn’t make out what they said over her own scream. The dizzy, nauseous feeling that came over her confused things even more.

  She came close to blacking out but held on long enough to see her sister flicker into view behind Derek. Ron’s eyes grew wide at the sight of Chris. Then her expression grew angry and determined before she disappeared again.

  Hanson’s arm slipped back around Chris, holding her up as he dragged her toward the opening. Suddenly, Hanson shouted a startled-sounding stream of curse words. She turned her head to see all three ghosts with a tight grip on his gun hand, forcing it to point up in the air. He still held onto Chris, too tightly for her to get away.

  Gritting her teeth and bracing herself, she shifted her weight onto her injured leg long enough to raise her other foot and bring it down as hard as she could on Hanson’s instep. It wasn’t very hard, but it was enough. His grip loosened enough for Chris to drop to her knees.

  As soon as she was clear, a big blur flew past her and crashed into Hanson, tackling him to the concrete. Before Chris knew what was happening, Derek grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. While he checked her over, she looked back to see Steve Lansing on top of Hanson. He pounded Hanson’s gun hand into the ground, over and over, until at last, the gun clattered to the floor.

  Wasting no time, Jimmy rushed over and kicked it out of Hanson’s reach. Steve kept up his assault, punching Hanson until he went limp. Breathing hard, Steve sat back and inspected Hanson. Apparently satisfied that the man would stay down, he climbed unsteadily to his feet.

  Chris suddenly found herself crushed to Derek’s chest as his hands stroked her hair and he murmured thanks for her safety. When he let her up again, they were surrounded by the ghostly crew, concern written all over their faces. “I’m all right,” she told them. “It’s all right.”

  “Yeah, well, I’ll be satisfied when I hear that from a doctor,” said Derek. “Stay with Steve. I’ll go bring the car up. Then we’ll get you to a hospital.” He glanced over at Steve. “You’ll stay with her?”

  Though he looked ready to drop, Steve nodded as he made his way back to his father, who had gone white as a sheet when Steve tackled Hanson. His hands shook visibly as he reached for his son. Then his face contorted. He shouted, grabbing hold of Steve’s hands and spinning them both around just as the gunshot went off.

  The bullet tore into Jim Lansing’s lower back. The old man slumped against his son, who managed to catch him even as he stared in shock at Hanson, still lying on the ground and holding Jim Lansing’s smoking gun.

  “One down,” Hanson mumbled through torn and bloody lips. Steve had done a real number on his face. One eye had swollen shut and the other was reduced to a puffy slit. It was a wonder he could see at all, let alone well enough to aim. Still, he kept the gun pointed at Steve as he climbed unsteadily to his feet.

  Steve didn’t even appear to notice. He called to his dad over and over as he sank to his knees and cradled the old man. Jimmy rushed to their side while the others hung back.

  Joe sank to the ground, his form flickering in and out. “Joe?” Ron asked him.

  “I don’t got much strength left.” He glanced up at Ron, then looked apologetically at Chris. “I don’t think I can be much more help.”

  “I’m running out of steam, too, but we have to do something.”

  “Derek went to get the car,” Chris whispered. “If you can find him, tell him what’s…” Her voice trailed off as she glanced back in the direction Derek had gone. He stood not far off, holding Hanson’s discarded pistol with both hands, aimed squarely at the cop.

  Hanson spotted him at the same time she did. He laughed. “You think you’ll do any better with that thing this time around?”

  “I’m not a kid anymore.” Derek’s voice came out steady and commanding. “Put the gun down.”

  Hanson’s face was hard to read in the moonlight, especially under all that bruising and swelling. But Chris thought she saw a flicker of desperation. Whatever she saw, it turned quickly into anger. Without another word, he raised his gun.

  Chris covered her ears as the shot rang out. Even without walls or a ceiling, it still echoed. Hanson staggered backward and leaned precariously over the mouth of the reservoir. Still, he tried to lift his gun. Another shot fired, and another.

  Derek advanced on Hanson as he emptied the magazine into him. Finally, Hanson went limp and fell backwards into the hole. A moment later, a muffled splash came from the depths of the tank.

  Derek dropped the gun and sank to his knees, clearly overcome by what he’d done. Chris crawled slowly over to him. He met her with open arms, pulling her carefully into his lap. For a while, they just held each other. She thought she could feel Derek trembling, but it was hard to tell over her own shakiness.

  “Chris, look out!” Ron shouted.

  Chris whipped her head around in time to see Hanson climbing up out of the hole. “Oh, you’re freaking kidding me!”

  Derek pulled back and peered down at her, confused. “What?”

  She glanced at him and turned back to Hanson, still struggling to pull himself up. “You don’t see him?”

  Derek shook his head. “I only see you.”

  She took another look at Hanson and realized he didn’t have any injuries. She also realized she could see him plainly in the darkness as he glowed with the same faint spirit light as the others. His face twisted into a mask of fury as he clawed his way out of the tank.

  Chris remembered Scottie Tucker, how angry he’d been, and how violent. Brand new spirit or not, Hanson looked angry enough to do a lot of damage if they stuck around. “We should get out of here,” she started to say, but only got half the sentence out before her voice trailed off.

  Something was happening to Hanson, something she’d never seen before. Wisps of gray smoke swirled around him. He paid them no mind as he finished pulling himself out of the hole. As he got to his knees, the smoky wisps darkened and solidified into black tendrils. They reached for him and wrapped around him.

  The look on his face transformed from fury to sheer terror as more and more of the blackness slithered over and around him, tugging him back down toward the hole. He screamed as he fought them.

  Chris wanted to look away, to bury her face against Derek’s chest and cover her ears to muffle his cries, but she couldn’t. She could only stare in fascinated horror as the tendrils thickened into tentacles. Then they formed into inky black arms with hands that grasped and tore at Hanson, pulling him screaming back into the hole.

  A flash of light erupted out of the opening, lasting only a second. Then it was gone, and Hanson’s screams went silent.

  “Are you okay?” Derek asked her. She looked up and found him staring at her with concern. “I mean, I know you’re hurt, but you look terrified.” He glanced over at the hole. “What do you see?”

  Chris closed her eyes and swallowed, then shook her head. “Nothing now. He’s gone. For good.”

  “But what—”

  “You don’t want to know,” she said, effectively putting an end to questions. She looked over to where Ron knelt beside Joe, both of them staring at the hole. They looked as horrified as she felt.

  “Steve,” said Derek, moving her gently off his lap. The former footballer held his dad, apparently oblivious both to everything else that had happened and to the presence of Jimmy standing next to him with a hand on his shoulder.
Derek got to his feet and then pulled her up. Together, they shuffled slowly over to the trio, soon met by Ron and a very tired-looking Joe.

  Steve looked up as Derek said his name. “He’s alive,” he said, his voice as raw as the pain on his face. “He needs an ambulance.”

  “It’s too late for that, son,” the old man managed between ragged gasps. “There’s no point.”

  “Dad, stop. It’s going to be okay. You’re going to be okay.”

  Jim Lansing smiled and lifted a bloody hand to his son’s cheek. “Forgive me. I only wanted—” His words were cut off by a fit of coughing that forced more blood out of his wound and his mouth. It was a minute or more before he could speak again.

  “I wanted you to get your shot, is all. I never meant—” Again he stopped, but not to cough. His gaze moved past Steve and focused on Jimmy, widening with surprise. “Jimmy, boy. I see you there.”

  “Hey, Uncle Jim.”

  “I never meant for them to hurt you, son. Not like… Like—” He started to cough again.

  “It’s okay, Dad,” said Steve, holding him closer. “Just hold on.”

  “I know,” Jimmy told him when the coughing subsided. “I know you only wanted to help Steve.”

  “Do you forgive me?”

  Jimmy nodded as Steve choked out a half-sobbed, “Yes! Yes, Dad. I forgive you.”

  “Good.” Lansing seemed to relax then. His eyes closed, and he went slack in Steve’s arms.

  “Dad?” Steve shook him. “Dad!”

  Derek moved next to him and gripped his shoulder. “He’s gone, buddy. Let him go.”

  “No,” Steve said weakly, then crushed his father’s body to his broad chest, heedless of the blood, and let out mournful sob.

  Jim Lansing sat up and got to his feet. Jimmy stood back to give him room. He looked down at his son, still sobbing over his prone body. He reached out to put a hand on his head but it went through it. He looked at it in surprise, then over at Jimmy, who offered him a weak smile. He nodded to him. Then he turned to Chris. “You see me, right?”

  She nodded.

  He looked ashamed then. “I’m sorry for getting you into this. For what it’s worth, I was only going to scare you.”

  Chris wasn’t sure she believed that, although he seemed to. She nodded but didn’t say anything.

  He looked back at Derek, who knelt with an arm around Steve. “Tell Derek I’m sorry. I really did love him like my own boy. I never wanted to hurt him.” He turned to Jimmy. “Or you.”

  “I know.”

  Lansing nodded, apparently satisfied. He looked around, then back at Chris. “What happens now?”

  She thought of what had just happened to Hanson, and swallowed. “I’m not sure. I think maybe—”

  Before she could finish, a brilliant golden light appeared behind him and Jimmy, so bright she had to raise a hand to shield her eyes.

  Jim and his namesake both turned toward the light. They looked back at her uncertainly. “It’s okay,” she told them. “Go.”

  Lansing looked back at the men crouched over his body. “You’ll tell them?”

  Whether he meant to tell Derek what he’d said, or that he’d crossed over and found peace, she wasn’t certain. But she nodded. He turned and walked toward the light. It seemed to enfold him into itself, and then he was gone. The light remained.

  Jimmy hung back, his gaze fixed on his brother. “Derek,” Chris called out to him. At his questioning glance she said, “It’s happening.”

  He looked confused at first, then he did a double take in Jimmy’s direction and focused on the spot where he stood. “Jimmy?” he said as he stood up.

  “Can you see him?” asked Chris.

  He nodded and approached Jimmy slowly. “It’s like a faint outline, but yeah. I see him.”

  “Can you hear me?” asked Jimmy, and Derek halted in his tracks. He blinked and nodded.

  “Yeah. I hear you, big brother.” A smile broke out across his face. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” Jimmy went toward Derek. “I mean, goodbye, I guess.”

  Derek swallowed, visibly struggling to keep his emotions in check. “Already?”

  Jimmy looked back at the light, then faced Derek. “Yeah, little brother. I think it’s time. You’ll be all right now. Won’t you?”

  Derek nodded, but he looked uncertain. Then he looked down at Chris and his expression became one of resolve. He nodded again, more firmly this time, and met his brother’s gaze. “Yeah.” His voice caught, and he cleared his throat. “I’ll be all right. You don’t need to worry about me anymore.”

  Jimmy smiled. He turned to Chris. “You’ll take care of this guy, right?”

  She smiled up at him and nodded.

  “Then, no. I won’t worry. Now hold still.” Derek obeyed as Jimmy moved closer and embraced him. Derek stiffened at the contact, then relaxed and raised his arms. At last, Jimmy released him.

  “Say hi to Dad for me,” Derek told him.

  “Say hi to Mom for me.”

  Derek laughed. “That’ll be an interesting conversation.”

  Jimmy smiled, then looked past Derek at Steve. “You’ll help him, right?”

  “Yeah. Of course.”

  With a nod, Jimmy turned toward Ron and Joe, who hung back on the other side of the reservoir, looking like they didn’t want to get too close to the light. Still, Chris couldn’t help but notice the look of longing on both of their faces—Ron’s as she gazed at the light, and Joe’s as he gazed up at Ron.

  “Thank you,” Jimmy told them.

  Ron smiled but didn’t appear to trust herself to say anything. Joe spoke up for her. “You’re welcome, son. Now get going before that thing closes and it was all for nothing. You’ve been stuck on this side long enough.”

  Jimmy nodded. “Right.” He turned back to Derek. “Well, then. Goodbye, little brother.”

  “Bye, Jimmy.” Derek’s voice was soft but steady. With one last look at everyone, Jimmy nodded, as if to himself. Then he turned and walked into the light. It enfolded him as it had done Lansing before closing up behind him and vanishing.

  Derek blinked and looked around. “Is he gone?”

  “Yeah. He’s gone.” She reached out for his hand, and he came closer and gave it to her.

  “Well then.” His voice cracked a little. He wiped his cheeks and squeezed her hand. “Sit tight. I’ll go get that car.”

  She watched him go before crawling over to Steve. He hung his head, his eyes closed as he stroked his father’s hair. Chris touched him lightly on the arm and he looked up. “He’s at peace,” she told him. “He went into the light.”

  “You saw that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is that a good thing?”

  Remembering what had happened to Hanson, she shuddered. “It’s a lot better than the alternative.”

  Steve seemed to consider this, then nodded. “Thank you.” She smiled and patted his arm. He jerked his chin at her leg. It had started bleeding again—probably when Hanson had hit her there—but it was coming slowly. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry he got you into this.”

  “So was he.”

  “He told you?” After she nodded, he asked, “What about Jimmy? Is he gone, too?”

  “Yeah.”

  Steve sighed. “I would have liked to talk to him. There’s so much I wanted to say…” He squeezed his eyes shut. Big droplets fell from his lashes and splashed on his father’s cheek. “Why did he do it?” He opened his eyes and looked down at his father. “What possessed you to send that monster after Jimmy?”

  “He loved you,” said Chris.

  He let out a bitter laugh. “That’s not an excuse.”

  “No, but it’s a reason. Love makes some people do crazy things.” She looked back to where Joe and Ron had been, only to find they’d gone. With the danger over, they must have hurried to get home while Joe still had enough strength for the trip.

  Chris still wondered about Ron’s choice to stay with Joe, especi
ally after seeing how much she clearly had been drawn to the light. Was that a crazy choice? Judging by the look on Joe’s face, he seemed to think so.

  Still, if Ron’s decision hurt anyone, it was only herself. That didn’t exactly compare to the lengths Jim Lansing had gone to for his son’s advancement. “And I guess sometimes, it can bring out the worst in people,” she said.

  Steve didn’t say anything. Instead, he closed his eyes and bowed his head over his father. Chris sat beside him, letting him grieve in silence as they waited for Derek. For the first time in a long time, there weren’t any ghosts around and it was truly quiet.

  And yet, Chris still felt haunted.

  Chapter Twenty-six

  “Are you sure about this?”

  Ron nodded. “He needs to know. And I think we should be the ones to tell him.”

  She and Joe stood outside the Tucker residence, looking through the window into Scott’s room. They had left Chris at home, tucked in on the sofa, sleeping off her pain meds. Ron had been preoccupied with Chris’s welfare while she spent more time in the hospital and things were settled with the police.

  It turned out that Detective Hanson had already been on the radar of Internal Affairs. With someone as well-respected as Steve Lansing as a first-hand witness, they were all too happy to call his shooting self-defense without putting Derek through too much of the ringer. The legal team Steve had put together for him didn’t hurt, either.

  At any rate, once everything was settled and Chris was safe at home, Ron hadn’t been able to get Scott Tucker out of her mind. There was no question that it had been Hanson who killed him and also the one he was so afraid of. Ron hoped news of his demise—and what had happened after—would bring Scott the peace he so desperately needed.

  Of course, Joe wasn’t about to let her deliver that news alone.

  “That’s not what I meant,” he told her. “You told me yourself that Tucker’s dangerous. Are you really sure we should be here?”

  “He was scared. That’s what made him dangerous. Now, the thing he was scared of is gone.” She glanced up at him with a sly smile. “But you don’t have to come in with me if you’re scared.”

 

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