Necropolis PD

by Nathan Sumsion

  There is an unearthly shriek, and Greystone bursts up from beneath the metal grate, screaming for all she’s worth. I can hear her over the noise coming from the Pit.

  Clark merely rolls his eyes, but it startles Officer Abayomi enough that he jerks back and drops Jessica’s body.

  Clark laughs harder, snorting. “Chuck, you just got spooked by a ghost.”

  I’m not going to get a better chance. I lurch up while Chuck is yelling at Greystone. I teeter awkwardly on my feet. I flop forward and slam into Chuck’s back. I take a couple groggy steps with him before shoving him out, off the edge. Not much force, but it was enough to make him take that one fatal step. I don’t see him get dragged into the Pit; I just hear his scream fade away as I fall down onto my hands and knees and start vomiting.

  “Holy shit, Green!” Clark says, and I can picture that smile still on his face. “Look at you, almost saving the day.” He punches me hard in the ear. I didn’t think I could hurt more, but he proves me wrong.

  Clark turns to Greystone and looks at her critically. I glance up, helpless. I’m trying to see what he’s seeing. It takes me a second, but then I realize what’s happening.

  Greystone is slowly being dragged towards the Pit. Her ghostly form can’t resist the pull. By the look on her face, she knows it too, but she’s still trying to protect me.

  “Stay away from him!” Greystone snarls at Clark.

  “What, seriously? Greystone, you can’t stop me. What is this now, the second officer in a row that you’ve failed? You might have distracted that idiot Chuck, but you’ve thrown your life away. What did you hope to accomplish here?”

  She grins fiercely, defiantly. “A distraction.”

  Then I feel it. A pounding, getting closer, rattling my teeth through the metal grate. I look over my shoulder. Clark does as well, and I see the smirk vanish from his face.

  Marsh plows into Clark at top speed, crushing his massive shoulder into the other man’s chest. It’s not perfectly lined up though, and Clark grazes off him and slams back into the railing. I hear the bones in his back crack. The metal railing bends back toward the Pit, but it supports his weight.

  Marsh looks like ten kinds of hell. Half his face is still missing. The right half of his skull above the jaw isn’t there. Brain matter and bone are exposed. He is glaring out of a single left eye. I can actually see through a hole in his body, see the spine and ribs revealed under the flesh that is still dripping gore. He is holding some kind of organ—a lung?—inside with his left hand.

  “Hey, Marsh,” Clark wheezes, trying to stand. “You heal fast.”

  Marsh’s knee slams into Clark’s face, throwing him back against the railing. Marsh pummels him with his right hand. Again. And again. I see teeth flying.

  Marsh jerks him upright. Marsh’s face is something out of nightmares, his single eye glaring with palpable fury. Clark is standing in front of the opening in the railing. He teeters, windmilling his arms. Clark looks at Marsh, then at me.

  “Well then,” he says, the smile returning.

  Marsh doesn’t say anything, I’m not sure he can. He just lets go of Clark’s shirt and kicks him square in the chest. Clark’s body flies out. If the force of the Pit weren’t so strong, he might have actually sailed over it. I see the hungry pull of the vortex drag Clark down, laughing hysterically all the way. His laughter hangs in the air for several seconds after his body is gone.

  “Greystone,” Marsh chokes, falling to his knees. It looks like he’s no longer conscious as he topples over on the platform. I stand up and move towards Greystone. She’s about three paces from the edge, and slowly getting pulled closer every second.

  I try to yell to her, but my head is still swimming, and my words come out in an unintelligible mess. Desperate, I shout to her in my mind.

  Ms. Greystone! Come on, you need to move away.

  She smiles sadly at me, stretching out her hand to brush my cheek. There is a tingling sensation, the barest whisper of a touch. “I can’t, Jacob Green. I’m too close.”

  “No!” I slur as loudly as I can.

  “It was worth it. I enjoyed our brief time together. I’ll be OK.”

  No! Now you listen to me. I need you to stay with me.

  She just continues to smile at me, resigned. It takes all my strength to stay standing, everything is spinning around me.

  Don’t give up! Please! I know you can escape this.

  “You’ll learn your way here,” she says, ignoring my pleas. She is two paces away now. “You will find your place.”

  Just listen! You said that the difference between ghosts and those with bodies is just a matter of willpower.

  “Jacob, you don’t—”

  Dammit, Greystone! Listen! I’m a Seer. You may know what it means, and I don’t. Not yet. But I know you. I can see the truth of you. You can do this. Do you understand? I can see the strength in you. You can do this.

  “Do what?” She asks sadly. She is another step closer now.

  I reach out to her. Take my hand.

  She shakes her head. “It doesn’t work like that.”

  Take. My. Hand. Or I swear to God I’ll step off this platform with you.

  She hesitates. In my current state, she rightly fears I’ll follow through on my claim. She reaches out and grabs at my hand. Her hand passes right through me.

  Concentrate! Don’t worry about your whole body. Just your hand. Your fingers. One finger. Touch my hand. Hold it. Just for a second.

  She is now out past the platform. My toes are at the edge. I use my other hand to grab the railing.

  Just your fingers, Greystone. Stay with me!

  There. The whisper of a feeling. Her fingers are touching mine.

  That’s it, Greystone. More!

  It’s not much, but she’s no longer being pulled into the Pit. She’s there, at the end of my arm, holding onto my hand. I take a tentative step back, and I feel resistance on my fingers. There is just enough tangibility. I pull her with me. Her face is furrowed in concentration, her eyes closed. She doesn’t realize we’re moving in a new direction now.

  Don’t look, Greystone. Just concentrate on me. I take a few more steps back. That’s it.

  Gradually, walking and weaving backward, I walk back across the platform, careful to avoid Marsh’s body. I keep going, up the steps towards the door. My legs are shaking. I’m covered in my own blood and vomit. I don’t know how far away will be safe for her, but I’m not taking any chances, no matter how wildly the walls are twisting in my vertigo. I keep a hand on the wall to steady me, and I keep an even pace up the steps until I reach the door, and carefully, I open it up, stepping out into the precinct. The room’s commotion comes to a grinding halt. If my ears weren’t ringing so badly, I’d swear you could hear a pin drop. The officers out there stop what they’re doing, stunned.

  The ghost of Officer Jenkins is there, staring at me slack-jawed. “Greystone! Green?”

  The room explodes into motion. Officers start rushing over to me, barraging me with questions, racing past me to go down the stairs for Marsh and Jessica. I hear multiple shouts for the captain.

  I don’t pay any attention to it. I feel Greystone’s fingers on mine. She’s here. I finally sigh in relief and stop, and my emotions must have traveled through our link. She opens her eyes and looks around, startled. The sensation of her fingers disappears as she returns to her normal state. But she did it. She did it long enough.

  You’re safe, Ms. Greystone. We did it. You did it.

  My legs give out from under me. It’s just too much for me to stand any more. I close my eyes, lean back against the wall, and shut out all the noise around me.

  Chapter 39

  My eyelids drag slowly across my eyeballs. My tongue is dry and swollen. Even the dim light from the cloud-covered sky outside the window causes me to flinch
as I open my eyes. I try to move my left hand to shield my eyes, but it doesn’t seem to budge.

  “Jake?” I hear Jessica’s voice nearby, but it sounds muffled. “Don’t try to move.”

  I take a look around me now. I’m in a plain room on a narrow bed of some kind. Judging by the noise outside the door, I must be in the precinct building somewhere. Jessica is in a chair next to the bed. She’s not wearing anything covering her face that would make her voice sound so strange, which makes me realize the problem is with my ears, not her voice.

  “What’s going on?” I ask. My voice is weak, tinny in my ears.

  “Shh,” she whispers, grabbing hold of my right hand. I look down at my body, and I won’t lie. It’s a mess. My left arm is in a cast and secured to the bed. It appears that I’m not wearing any clothes. The sheet is pulled up to my chest, but I can see bruises on my skin almost everywhere it isn’t covered.

  “Everything is OK,” Jessica says. “You’ve been out for nearly two days.”

  “Two days?” I shout and immediately start coughing, which triggers a crazy headache. My vision swims a bit. I feel her hand on my chest, holding me down.

  “Jake, you need to rest. You were severely injured. You have a concussion, and Jake . . .”

  Her voice fades out, along with my vision, and I go floating in the black again.

  The next time I wake up, it is darker outside. My stomach rumbles loudly. I glance around the room, seeing nothing but shadows, hearing nothing but a few voices from far off beyond the closed door. Which is why I about crap myself when a voice whispers from the corner of the room.

  “Bonsoir, Detective Green,” the voice slithers into my ear.

  My heart is hammering crazily in my chest, but I let a breath out once I realize I recognize the speaker. “Hey, Captain Radu.”

  The far corner of the room is blanketed in darkness. I don’t see the captain there at first, but he gradually coalesces into a recognizable form as he walks out of the shadows. I see his blazing red eyes first, followed by the veiny bald head, the crooked protruding teeth. The freaking scary expression on his face. He does the whole moving-across-the-room-without-actually-moving-his-feet thing and reaches the side of my bed.

  The chair that Jessica was seated in before is against the wall, but it suddenly slides across the floor until it is behind Radu. He sits down, back straight, feet and knees together, hands clasped in his lap.

  “How are you feeling, Detective?” the captain asks. He studies me, his eyes fixed not on mine, but on my throat.

  I nod uneasily. “Like I got hit by a truck.”

  Radu makes a tsk sound in his throat. “Understandable.”

  “Wait,” I say, struggling to sit up. “What about everyone else? How’s Marsh? Greystone?”

  The captain holds up his hand in a calming motion. “Calme toi. Relax, Detective. They are fine. Marsh recovers considerably faster than you do, though even he had a tough go of it. He’s been up and around for the past day. Ms. Greystone is likewise doing well.”

  He looks at me curiously. “She tells me something quite remarkable. You saved her from the Pit. What she describes is unprecedented. She has stationed herself outside your room the entire time you have been recovering.”

  “What?” I say, confused. “Why doesn’t she come in?”

  “She has been guarding your door. She is worried that our adversary might have other operatives working inside the precinct. No one that she doesn’t recognize has been able to get close to this room.”

  You’ve been guarding my room, I think to her.

  “Oh! Detective, you’re awake. How are you feeling?”

  I’ll tell you in a minute, I reply. I’m talking to Captain Radu right now.

  “What’s the status of the case?” I ask.

  Radu smiles, pleased that is one of the first thoughts to my waking mind. “Now that we know it was Clark who was working against us, we should be able to make some progress in tracking down our suspect. This woman you encountered at Miss Everin’s home, I understand you got a good look at her.”

  I shrug, then wince at the pain it causes. “Well, kind of. I figured out who she was. Who it was. I know what shell it’s wearing right now. No telling if it’s still inside Mrs. Mayweather.”

  Radu shakes his head. “We found Mrs. Mayweather’s corpse the day after your encounter. My question to you is, can you find it again? The being inside?”

  I have to think about that. I think back to what I saw, how the demon didn’t look natural in the body he was wearing. Hesitantly, I nod my head. “I think so.”

  Radu smiles widely. He has a lot of sharp, pointy teeth. “Excellent.”

  Radu nods and stands up. “Take the rest of the day to recuperate. Tomorrow, meet with Detective Marsh, and get caught up on the case.”

  The door to the room opens on its own and Radu glides over to it. He pauses at the threshold. “I’m glad you survived, Detective Green. You are an asset to our staff. I trust that will continue.”

  He steps out, and the door closes behind him.

  Huh. I think the captain is starting to like me.

  “That’s not a good sign, Detective. That’s when he’s the most dangerous,” Greystone warns.

  What? Are you serious?

  I hear snickering in my mind, and I relax. If Greystone is cracking jokes, I must be doing OK.

  Thank you for watching my door.

  “No one will get past me, Detective. Get some sleep.”

  I close my eyes again, and I have the most peaceful night’s sleep I’ve had since arriving here.

  A knock sounds at the door to my room the following evening. I’ve just finished putting on a button-up shirt, and I’m trying to wrangle a tie into place. Seriously, why do people use these things? The cast on my arm was gone when I woke up. I have a few bruises left, but the major damage seems to have been healed by what passes for a medical staff here. I’m still a little stiff, moving slowly. I’m not sure who did what to me to speed the healing along so quickly—more magic than medicine, I’d guess. Frankly, I’d rather just keep that one a mystery.

  The door opens, and Detectives Burchard and Meints enter. They both look irritated, but Detective Burchard definitely more so. “C’mon, Green. Let’s go,” he says. He frowns at me as I struggle to finish up tying my tie. Actually, I don’t know that I’ve ever seen an expression that wasn’t a frown or scowl on his face. I’ve heard him laughing from the other room before, but by the time I enter, it vanishes without a trace.

  Detective Meints is standing with his arms folded, diligently not looking at me. He looks like he ate something sour. When he finally speaks, he’s still staring the other way. “Detective Green. There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

  I wait, then sigh when nothing more is forthcoming. “What?”

  He clears his throat. “It is true, then? You are one of these Seers? That’s confirmed?”

  Burchard snorts derisively.

  I nod. “Yes,” I reply, seeing no reason to deny it now. Burchard rolls his eyes.

  “Incredible,” Meints exclaims, and I swear his fingers start twitching like he wants to start taking notes. “I have many questions. To date, I’ve only ever been able to study your kind in books and tomes. In stories.”

  “I don’t know that I’ll be much help, Meints. I barely know anything about it.”

  “True, but you must have a guess as to the extent of your abilities. From my studies, I know we are unlikely to be able to lie to you. I was suspicious when you performed your stunt for us when we first met you. But it couldn’t possibly be what it appeared, could it? We thought Seers were all but extinct.”

  I shrug as I grab my badge and gun and get ready to go. “You probably know more about it than I do, Meints.”

  “Obviously. What I’m asking is,” he holds
up his hand, motioning me to wait. “When you and Marsh questioned us all before the captain . . . we thought it was the captain who was gauging whether we were lying or not. I was sweating bullets wondering what the captain was up to. But it was you, then. Wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. It was me. And I’ll be honest, you stood out from the rest. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone mess up so spectacularly trying to answer questions truthfully.”

  I get a chuckle out of Burchard on that one even though the scowl never leaves his face.

  “Hey!” Meints protests, looking at me now. “I get nervous around the captain.”

  “I get that. But why were you so guilty about everything? I mean, you were second-guessing every answer you gave.”

  Burchard speaks up, quiet but serious, “Yeah, he does that. His guilt hangs over him like a cloud. Past sins and all, right, Meints? He probably flubbed every answer he gave, questioned himself. Tripped every magical lie detector you’ve got. But despite all that, Green, you went after Clark.”

  There’s no question there, so I don’t respond. Burchard nods to me, then, to his partner. “Looks like you’re scared of the wrong guy, Meints.”

  Meints waves that away. “Him? As opposed to the captain? Bah. I’m not scared of Green.”

  “I’m just saying maybe you should be,” Burchard continues, and I swear, just for a microsecond, there was a grudging flicker of a smile on his face as he falls in beside me.

  “And I don’t feel guilty,” he grouses. I don’t know who he’s trying to convince; we all just stare at him.

  Burchard shakes his head and starts walking to the door, and I fall into step beside him. Meints catches up on the stairwell and flanks me on the other side. I guess they’re guarding me wherever we’re going because normally they would leave me in the dust.