Poltergeeks

by Sean Cummings

  Marcus leaned over so that his forehead was less than an inch from mine and I got that stupid little fluttering feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me that despite all the drama of the past few hours, my feelings for Marcus had grown stronger. I don't know if it was because we'd been nearly killed or the fact that we'd been riding an emotional rollercoaster together ever since the attack at the school, but Marcus stood by me. Even when I was being jealous and a general bitch, he didn't abandon me when any normal guy would have run for his life.

  "What's it say?" Marcus asked.

  I ran my finger along the middle of the page until I found something that looked like a definition. "'Quick Spells: For use when in the throes of a duel'. That sounds about right seeing as how I'm going to be going at it with someone who probably knows how to do magic on the fly. There's binding and summoning spells of every bloody description!"

  "What's a binding?"

  "It's a spell that's used to prevent someone from doing harm to another person."

  "Gotcha. Well, there's a whack of bad ass stuff you can use," said Marcus pointing his pen at the last one on the list. "What's a black curse?"

  I closed my father's grimoire with a loud slap. "You don't want to go there… seriously."

  "What are you talking about?"

  I felt a twinge of fear tie itself into a tight knot. "It's the last resort for black magic," I said sounding like the voice of doom. "It's the sorcery equivalent of mutually assured destruction."

  Marcus gasped. "You mean like what they do with nuclear weapons? Like if you're going to go down you're taking every last one of them with you?"

  I nodded slowly. "Yeah, that's pretty much it."

  Marcus reached for the grimoire and I pulled it away at the last second. "No… just trust me on this, okay? That's a completely taboo spell."

  "Well, what's it do?" he asked.

  I shuddered for a moment and clenched my jaw tightly. "A black curse sucks the life out of every single living thing within a hundred-yard radius, creating a black hole of negative energy from which it is utterly impossible for the intended victim to escape. Not only does it kill you, it erases you."

  Marcus' eyes bugged out. "Cosmic obliteration," he said in a near whisper. "But… how is that possible?"

  "A black curse draws on all the forces of the physical and spiritual worlds," I said slowly. "Meaning there would be no afterlife at all. No heaven or hell as a reward or punishment for deeds in life, just a vast expanse of non-existence. As if the very thought of you never happened and everything you touched during your life, everyone who ever knew and loved you would have never felt your presence. You would become unborn."

  It was Marcus' turn to shudder. "You know, that's frankly a terrifying thought. It throws everything we know about physics and time right out the window."

  "No shit," I said, glancing at my watch. It blinked 11:48pm. "We need to put a plan together super fast. Time's running out for my mom and if we're going to take down Hudibras, it's going to have to be done before sunrise."

  "How come?" asked Marcus.

  "Because there's going to be magic flying in every direction and don't forget that we're dealing with a guy who likes to imitate the power of a poltergeist. Everything that isn't nailed down will be transformed into deadly projectiles. Innocent people could get hurt and of course, there's also the fact that bystanders aren't exactly psychologically prepared to witness supernatural activity. The people in this city experience enough traumas during morning rush-hour. I'd like to spare them from seeing stuff that will make grinding through traffic gridlock on the Deerfoot Trail seem like a pleasant drive in the country by comparison."

  Marcus took a swig of his Coke and grimaced. "So we need to do this in an open space and secluded enough that it won't attract any unnecessary attention."

  "Pretty much," I said. "Any thoughts on a location?"

  Marcus chewed away at the end of his straw for a few seconds and said, "Calgary's a pretty congested city. We could do Nose Hill Park, seeing as how it's nothing but empty prairie for miles, but it's a known hang-out for the romantic crowd."

  "Okay scratch that one," I said.

  "It has to be either the north or south side of town and easy enough to find. I'm thinking the Calgary Rugby Stadium off Shepard Road. It's nowhere near as big as Nose Hill, but it's in an industrial block and absolutely nobody goes there at night."

  I nodded in agreement. "Okay, we've got a location. Now all I have to do is commit my dad's grimoire to memory and we're good to go."

  Marcus arched a wary eyebrow. "Can't you just… I don't know, make a cheat sheet or something?"

  "That's pretty much what I'm going to have to do," I said, flipping through the book. "I also think we need to create a duel environment that favours us."

  "What do you mean?"

  I pointed to a page with a series of sketches showing what the grimoire described as 'defensive traps'. "I'm going to have to somehow separate the spirit of Matthew Hopkins from Hudibras and there are about five different kinds of rings that can be used to hold him in place."

  "What about Hudibras?" asked Marcus as he examined the sketches. "How do you take him down?"

  I exhaled heavily and said, "It will come down to a battle of wills and whose magic is stronger. I think he could be severely weakened if we can yank Hopkins out of him."

  "But your dad said this guy was probably possessed by Hopkins. Doesn't that mean you have to do an–"

  "Exorcism," I interrupted as I pointed to a paragraph long incantation in my father's handwriting. "A really complex one where if anything goes wrong, we're done like dinner."

  Marcus shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "Gotcha, so do we head over to the rugby field now?"

  "Not yet," I said, trying to banish the bleak tone from my voice. "We need to go to my house to get everything ready."

  Chapter 22

  The bus ride to the university C-Train station took less than twenty minutes and we'd timed it perfectly. Our train to the south-side of town was waiting for us when we hopped off the bus. Marcus sat next to me in a near-empty car. A cool breeze blew in from one of the opened windows and I had a few moments to collect my thoughts on how best to proceed in confronting Hudibras.

  What tugged at me was how I'd been living in the dark for so long. I'd gone from a seemingly harmless intervention on behalf of a little old biddy and her cat to a life-and-death battle with a spirit holding a four hundred year-old grudge. Everything that happened in the past two days shook my beliefs as a witch and left me wondering whether once this was over, I'd swear off witchcraft all together and live a quiet life in the relative safety and security of anonymity.

  Yeah, like that would ever happen.

  I spun the copper band around my left wrist and I considered the facts as I knew them. Hudibras saw me as a threat. The spirit of Matthew Hopkins was either in possession of Hudibras or they had come to some kind of dark bargain. My father was a Shadowcull in life and I carried his bloodline which made me an automatic target. Someone who worshipped the Left Hand Path had him killed and now that I'd taken his place as a Shadowcull, they'd be gunning for me. But why go after my mom now? She'd spent her life protecting me from danger; why not get her – and me – earlier. Was my father's death and my impending showdown with Hudibras connected somehow, or not?

  I watched the houses zipping by as the train hummed along and I wondered for a short moment, what life would be like if I'd never been a witch. Would I have any interest in the comings and goings of people my age? I glanced at Marcus from the corner of my eye. Would I have even noticed that such a fantastic guy like Marcus existed?

  Probably not. I'd no doubt build my life around attaining popularity at school or landing the hottest boyfriend like all the other drone-girls. I'd be more interested in clothes and what my social circle was up to and I'd probably insert the word 'like' into every second sentence.

  Still, it would be cool to have a circle of friends that
weren't on the fringe. I'm only human and it was natural that I'd desire what the popular people at school had. What teenager doesn't? Why shouldn't I want to be the center of attention instead of having to practice a craft that I couldn't share with anyone outside of Mom and Marcus? I couldn't even imagine what a normal life looked like and a big part of me wanted one now more than ever.

  Ugh.

  I pushed the notion of a life outside of witchcraft and geekdom out of my head. My school is filled with geeks just like Marcus and me and so what if we're not in that ten percent of the school population that's popular? I'm a witch; Marcus is a freaking Einstein doppelganger clone of uber brilliance and every other geek at my school rocks. Period.

  Take that all you boring 'beautiful' people.

  I exhaled slowly and reeled my thoughts back in to what I had to do in the next few hours. Speculating about a life outside of witchcraft or the reasons why fate had chosen me in its warped and self-amusing way was pointless. Time was short and I had to help Mom. Soon.

  We got back to my house shortly after 1am where we were met by an enormous Great Dane that was sitting on the front step like it was expecting us.

  "That's a big dog," Marcus whispered, as if he didn't want to anger the beast. "Think Hudibras sent a canine to take you down?"

  The dog sneezed, and then stood up. It cocked its head a couple of times, and then it opened its mouth.

  "Relax, it's only me," the dog said in a deep, baritone voice.

  Marcus jumped back about ten feet and nearly stumbled into one of Mom's weed beds. "Whoa! That freaking dog can talk!"

  The Great Dane trotted down the steps and grabbed the strap of my backpack with its black muzzle. It sniffed at the copper band on my left wrist and then let out a huge sneeze that sent a spray of dog snot all over my arm.

  "Gross!" I said. "Betty, you freaking body-snatched a dog?"

  "He was the only thing I could find," said Betty the dog. "So don't start on me about the choice of forms I take. This mutt was on death row at the pound so if anything, I'm doing him a favour."

  Marcus approached Betty with a good measure of trepidation, then reached out and scratched behind her pointy ears. "At least you didn't show up on Julie's doorstep as a French Poodle," he said.

  Betty the dog lurched forward and pushed her enormous head into Marcus' midsection, knocking him back into the weed bed.

  "That, young man, is not funny," her voice rumbled. "Julie, I'm sure by now that you've been in contact with your father. You've learned something about your past, I take it?"

  I pushed Betty's huge, floppy head aside and stomped up the path to the front door. I whispered a word of magic and felt the sentinels surrounding my house draw back enough for the three of us to enter. "Yeah, well it would have been really nice if you'd told me about him from the start. While you were at it, you could have told me about Shadowculls and coven justice, too."

  She trotted up the walk and stepped into the house with Marcus following close behind. "As I said before; I can't offer information, I can only answer questions. Had you asked, I would have told you everything."

  I waved my right index finger and the door slammed behind Marcus and Betty the Great Dane. I could feel the sentinels engage and I knew that for the time being, we'd be safe if Hudibras decided to come after me in my own house. No sooner had I armed the sentinels than the phone in the living room rang. The caller ID said it was from the Rockeyview Hospital and a sickly feeling washed over me as I picked the receiver up from the cradle.

  "H-hello?" I said quietly.

  "This is Evelyn Abrams from the Rockyview Hospital—I'm the charge nurse on the intensive care unit. I'm calling for Julie Richardson."

  My throat was dry. "This is Julie – is everything okay? Did something happen to my mom?"

  "Approximately forty-five minutes ago your mom experienced a seizure." The nurse's voice was calm but I didn't detect any reassurance in her tone. "We've stabilized for the time being and we're running some tests to determine the cause. Unfortunately, the more serious issue is that her kidneys are beginning to fail."

  "Her kidneys? Is she going to be okay?" I asked, barely choking out the words.

  "The best we can do right now, Julie, is to keep your mom stable. The tests should give us some indication as to why she had a seizure; our concern is that her kidneys are shutting down. The doctors are doing everything they can and we just wanted to give you an update on her condition. Will you be at this number?"

  I bit hard into my right knuckle; it was everything I could do to keep myself from screaming. "Yes," I said, quietly. "Thank you for calling."

  The living room was dead silent as I hung up the phone.

  "Is everything okay?" Marcus asked.

  My head was throbbing as I fought back the urge to throw up. I'm no medical expert, but I'd watched enough TV to know that when a person's kidney's go it's a sign that eventually all their organs will fail. When that happens, death happens. I instinctively wanted to hop on the C-Train and head to the hospital to be with her, because if she was dying, then she deserved to have a loved one at her side to be there for her. There was still a chance that I could save her but the window of opportunity was closing quickly. Mom was running out of time and I had to end this, there was simply no other way to save her life.

  "We have a ton of stuff to do and not much time to do it," I said firmly. "Mom's taken a turn for the worse. I'm going to battle it out with Hudibras tonight and I absolutely have to defeat him. Failure isn't an option."

  Betty wagged her tail and it thumped loudly against the side of the sofa. "And I believe that you can do this, Julie. You wear the weapon of a Shadowcull. This gives you a significant advantage."

  "Maybe he doesn't know she's a Shadowcull," Marcus interrupted. "He might be under the impression that Julie is just a very skilled witch."

  "It doesn't matter at this point what Hudibras thinks," I said as I headed down the stairs to the library. "I have a grimoire filled with the tools of the trade for a Shadowcull; I just need to formulate a plan of attack."

  And I needed to make it the mother of all magical attacks. The good news was that Betty had an encyclopaedic knowledge of the arcane and my head was swimming with questions to ask. She'd earn her pay – or at least a milk bone – before I was done.

  I stepped into the library and placed the grimoire on the work table. "Betty, what do you know about bindings? My dad's grimoire lists a bunch of them that can be used as something he calls quick magic."

  Two enormous forepaws appeared on the edge of the work table as Betty the dog stood on her hind legs to get a better view of my father's grimoire. "Obviously you know the central purpose of a binding spell. I suspect your intent is to bind the practitioner to your will."

  I nodded. "Kind of. We figured out that Matthew Hopkins may be in possession of Hudibras' body and possibly even his subconscious. We need to figure out a way to bind Hudibras in place long enough to conduct an exorcism."

  Betty stretched out a ridiculously long pink tongue from between a set of floppy black lips and licked her chops. "The most powerful form of exorcism is by use of the Roman Ritual," she said with a loud smack. "Unfortunately we're not dealing with a creature from the abyss."

  "There's something in here called a 'strain binding'," I said. "What's that about?"

  Betty leaned in and I assumed she was scanning the page. "That might work, actually. It's a kind of binding spell that draws its power not only from the will of the spell caster, but also from the target."

  "That sounds like it would be powerful enough to bind Hudibras long enough to conduct an exorcism." Marcus said as he cleared a space on the work table.

  Betty the dog grunted. "That depends on the will of the person invoking the spell. I suspect that despite your relative inexperience, Julie, your Shadowcull's band would certainly compensate."

  I grabbed a felt marker and wrote the invocation on my left forearm. Yeah, I was making a cheat but it didn't mat
ter. I needed to have an edge. "And the exorcism itself – what do you recommend?"

  Betty got down from the table and stretched with a loud groan. "I should think a standard exorcism would suffice, but you'll need to craft a vessel to contain the spirit of Matthew Hopkins. I'd recommend a funeral urn or something similar, preferably made from copper."

  "Why not use the box from the cemetery?" Marcus asked. "I remember your Dad's ghost saying it was copper and covered with sigils that were all spells of some kind."

  I span around. "Marcus, you're a genius! That's exactly what we'll use. Would you go upstairs and grab it out of my backpack?"

  Marcus grinned from ear to ear. "I'm on it."

  I returned to the worktable and flipped through Dad's grimoire again. "Marcus is out of earshot, Betty. I'm going to use my father's black curse if I have to."