by Неизвестный
To Eli’s relief, the discussion of his alleged blossoming sensitivity had been cut short by the loose plastic. Yes, he’d been talking to his girlfriend about his work more than usual, but it wasn’t due to any changes in himself, just changes in his situation. He resented the idea that anything had been wrong with the guy Brenda was now calling Old Eli.
Brenda howled in outrage as the sticky tape caught strands of her pale golden-red hair.
He stifled a chuckle as she cursed the plastic, calling it foul names usually reserved for Eli when he committed toilet crimes in the apartment.
Finally, she got the tape pressed down again.
“That was difficult for you,” Eli said, teasing. “But you didn’t give up.”
She snorted and gave him a crooked grin. “I’m probably getting a bald patch.”
They both looked at the yanked-out red hairs embedded in the tape.
“I might still love you as a baldie,” Eli said.
She gave him a giggle that showed both delight and disgust—his favorite kind of Brenda giggle.
They pulled up to the delivery depot that had once employed both of them, but now only employed Brenda. He leaned over to kiss her goodbye for the day. She met his kiss with unexpected passion, plus more than a little tongue.
His new job had certainly breathed new life into their relationship. He sure wasn’t complaining about that.
After Brenda jumped out of the van, Eli took a moment to admire himself in the vehicle’s rear view mirror. He was a handsome guy of about thirty, with medium-brown hair and medium-brown eyes. All of his features were average enough, but as of that morning, his whole look was really coming together.
He rubbed the top of his nose and examined his upper eyelids. There was some mild swelling, but he didn’t have the black eyes he’d expected after being punched by his employer the day before.
Eli parked the van in front of the Ghost Hackers storefront and walked up to the door with a spring in his stride. His new work uniform—olive-green shirt, cargo pants, and military surplus books—definitely increased his overall handsomeness. No wonder Brenda couldn’t get enough of him this morning.
He entered the store and confidently strode past the shelves of refurbished electronics, making his way toward the back and calling out, “Hey, gang! Eli Carter is here to kick some ghost butt.”
He found the Hart siblings, Khan and Valentine, in the small kitchenette, drinking mugs of tea.
Valentine looked Eli up and down, then leaned over and whispered something in her brother’s ear.
Khan ruffled his unusual, snowy-pale hair with one hand while his dark brown eyebrows raised in amusement.
“Yes, Val, I think you’re right,” Khan said. “I believe Eli Carter did have relations this morning with his girlfriend.”
Valentine’s pretty, ocean-green eyes widened under her brown bangs. Her cheeks turned a delicate shade of pink.
Seven and a half awkward seconds passed in silence.
Now everyone was thinking about Eli having relations.
Eli tried not to think about the morning’s gymnastics with a lithe and enthusiastic Brenda, lest he beam the specific images directly into everyone’s brains. She’d done this half-twist thing…
Valentine ducked her head and dashed out of the room, her dark brown ponytail swinging like the tail of a horse at galloping speed.
Khan handed Eli a mug of hot tea. “Congratulations, my man.” He pointed to an open box of sweet-smelling pastries on the counter. “Have a jelly donut.”
Eli took one and tapped the sugar off so he wouldn’t make a mess on his shirt. He stared at the doorway as Valentine walked away down the hall, with her nice curves barely concealed by her jeans and hoodie sweatshirt.
“How’d she know?” Eli asked.
Khan clapped him on the shoulder. “She didn’t.” He chuckled. “She was telling me the bank account was overdrawn, and we’d better not screw up today’s job, or the new employee won’t get paid.”
“Right. What’s the job?”
Khan grabbed a jelly donut. “Smash off.”
“Is that a type of haunting?”
Khan answered by crushing his jelly donut against the one in Eli’s hand. The red jelly in Eli’s donut erupted from top, like a volcano spewing sweet lava.
“I win,” Khan said. He bit into his crumpled-but-not-deflated donut. Around a mouthful, he explained that they did have a paying job for that morning. Valentine had talked to the client on Tuesday, and everything was set up. It was an easy job. A slam dunk. A simple poltergeist capture.
Eli licked the jelly from his fingers, quietly keeping his doubts to himself. Their last so-called easy job had been anything but.
He looked Khan over for signs of weakness, but found nothing but the usual muscles and masculine posture. Considering the man had been dead briefly the night before, he was in fine form today, filling out a crisp black T-shirt and camouflage-print pants. Eli self-consciously rolled back his own shoulders and straightened his spine.
Khan continued, “Val actually had a ton of calls yesterday. Today could be a double bill.”
Eli grinned. He knew all about Khan’s upsale tactics—tactics that some people might classify less as upsale and more as fraud. “You mean charge double?”
“No, I mean slay two beasts in one day. We’ll take care of the first one before lunch, then hit the gym, then pick up a second paying gig to round out the day.”
“The gym?” Eli had been meaning to start a training routine at a gym, but his plan was to go solo for a few months to bulk up before he started working out with Khan. Actually, before any gym, he would start at home, doing pushups and lifting household objects.
The hallway would be the perfect space for his workouts, once they got Brenda’s plastic storage boxes organized. Eli totally had it all planned out. He could already visualize his new, buff muscles, and felt that visualizing success was basically half the work.
“We’ll skip lunch and hit the gym,” Khan said as he handed Eli a cream-filled eclair.
Eli accepted the pastry warily. “Another smash off?”
“Don’t be weird, Eli. You don’t do smash offs with custard.” He shook his head and picked up an eclair for himself. He pointed his free hand at Eli’s hip pocket. “What’s that lumpy thing in there? Have you got a pocket ghost?”
Eli reflexively pulled out his set of keys. “Just these.”
“EATING CONTEST!” Khan yelled. “WINNER GETS TO DRIVE THE VAN!”
Khan crammed the eclair into his mouth in one bite, snatched the keys from Eli’s hand, and bolted for the exit.
Chapter Two
Khan was already revving the van’s engine by the time Eli got outside.
Someone let out a loud wolf whistle. Eli turned and found Valentine standing in the shop’s doorway, holding out two bags of equipment.
“Don’t forget the gear, genius,” Valentine said.
“Ouch,” Eli said as he took the bags. “That really stings, having an actual genius sarcastically call you a genius.”
“I can only imagine,” she said coolly, her expression neutral.
The tires of the van squealed on the pavement behind Eli, and other drivers honked at Khan as he pulled out into traffic.
“I guess he’ll circle the block,” Eli said.
“You realy shouldn’t let him drive.”
He hoisted the bags higher on his shoulders. “These are heavy.”
“As much as I’d like to stand here, stating the obvious, I’ve got stuff to do. We really are getting a lot of calls about jobs.”
Eli stared into Valentine’s eyes, as green and pretty as beach glass. He wanted to say something to her, right now while they had a minute alone, to make things between them more comfortable. He wanted to say something witty and disarming.
Instead, he said, “I’m not like other guys.”
She arched one delicate brown eyebrow. “I wouldn’t be so sure of that.”
> Before he could figure out what he meant by that, let alone explain it to Valentine, she was gone, back inside the store.
He re-adjusted the straps of the equipment bags on his shoulders and walked down to the corner to wait for his van to reappear.
When Khan pulled around, he leaned over to pop the passenger door open, but didn’t bring the van to a full stop. He kept rolling.
Eli tossed the bags in first, jogging to keep up with the vehicle, then finally caught up enough to jump in. He didn’t complain to Khan about not stopping, because he wasn’t all that annoyed, and because he was still thinking about the humiliating interaction with Valentine.
Because he had a microchip in his brain that prevented him from lying, this was far from his first awkward moment with a girl. In fact, all of Eli’s dating experiences pre-Brenda could be summed up in a single descriptive word: cringe-worthy.
This situation with his new co-worker was different, though. He wasn’t trying to date her. He just wanted for them to be friends. How was he going to accomplish this when everything he said was so cringe-worthy? Especially when it seemed like her brother was trying to dial up the tension?
He turned and studied Khan, who was happily humming along with the radio and testing all the levers around the steering column. The windshield wipers came on, along with the glass-cleaning spray. Khan whooped with elation, then moved on to the turn signal.
“Eli, check it out!” he said. “Tick, tick, tick. I’m telling people I’m going to change lanes, but really, I’m not.” He chuckled while watching drivers around him react as he signaled one way, then the other.
“That’s enough horsing around,” Eli said. “You’re going to get us pulled over, and you don’t even have a driver’s license.”
Khan ignored him and kept playing with the turn signal, as well as the flashing hazard lights. “Suckers,” he muttered about the other drivers.
“Why do you act like this? Why is everything such a big carnival for you? You’re probably drunk already. Pull over. I’m driving.”
Khan turned off the windshield wipers, turn signal, and hazard lights. “Fine. I’ll behave,” he said, his voice stony.
Nobody apologized. It seemed like the sort of situation where someone ought to, but neither did.
Eli considered asking where the poltergeist job was located, but then noticed the address was written on Khan’s forearm, as usual. They were headed toward one of the city’s nicer suburbs, which was a good omen for them getting paid.
After they’d been driving a good ten minutes, Eli had a sudden, guilty realization. He reached for the equipment bags and unzipped them. He counted only five of the hexapods. They were short one, stolen out of his van while the equipment had been in his care.
“Valentine already juiced up the power,” Khan said, answering Eli’s unspoken worries. “The hexapods are now technically pentapods. It took her all of five minutes, too. Valentine can do almost anything in the time it takes a guy like me to make a cup of tea.”
“She really is a genius. I’ve never met anyone like her. Do you think other people find her intimidating?”
Khan kept his eyes on the road and used the turn signal to responsibly change lanes. “She does get dates, if that’s what you mean. She’s been seeing a personal trainer guru lately. He’s man enough to withstand her testicle-withering gaze.”
Eli felt his cheeks get warm. Valentine was dating someone. That wasn’t the answer to the question he’d asked, but it certainly was the answer to the one he hadn’t.
“How can I make her like me?” Eli asked. “Just as a friend, obviously.”
“Give her time,” Khan said. “You guys will be buddies soon enough, then I’ll be the third wheel, as usual.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”
After a moment, Khan glanced over, his dark green eyes serious. “What’s the deal with that little chunk of metal in your brain? I tried to get Val to microwave your head last night when you were asleep, but she said it wasn’t safe.”
Eli made a mental note to thank Valentine for not microwaving his head while he was sleeping.
Now that Khan had seen the chip during his moment of X-Ray vision, he was bound to keep asking. Eli didn’t want to tell, so he kept his mouth shut, locking his jaw against blurting out his secret.
“Must be a smugness chip,” Khan said. “You always wear your seatbelt and obey the speed limit. And when we go day drinking, you act like I’m pouring the booze down your throat.” He tapped on the steering wheel in his own rhythm, unrelated to the music on the radio. “Yup. Definitely a smugness chip.”
“Think whatever you want,” Eli said.
“Good. Now I’m thinking about supporting the local stripper economy.”
“Okay.”
“Now I’m thinking about how my life is a carnival, and that means spending the day’s profits on dances from Brandee with two e’s instead of paying my smug employee.”
“Okay,” Eli said, but he wasn’t listening, much less bothered.
For the rest of the drive to their poltergeist job, Eli wondered if the device in his head could actually be a smugness chip. Of course, smugness wasn’t the right word, but he did wonder if it was something that regulated his behavior in more ways than just preventing him from lying.
He’d had problems doing illegal things before. Back in high school, even after getting arrested inside the Crashdown Zone, he still hung out with that dirtbag Falcon, mostly because he was too scared to say no. Falcon wanted Eli to shoplift stuff with him, but he wouldn’t. As much as Eli wanted to fit in with a group—any group, even a bunch of solvent-huffing losers—he couldn’t bring himself to steal so much as a chocolate bar.
He’d been disappointed with himself at the time, but not years later, when he heard through a mutual acquaintance that Falcon and some of the old gang were serving time for a residential break-in that turned violent.
Eli stared through the murky plastic covering the passenger-side window, admiring the city as seen through a hazy filter. Time was like this plastic, putting wrinkles and scratches all over his memories.
He wondered what Falcon was up to right now, and what being in prison felt like.
If there really was such a thing as a behavior chip that stopped people from doing bad things, they could have put it in Falcon’s head instead of making him go to jail.
Other than himself, though, Eli had never heard of anyone getting a chip in their head. Cats and dogs get microchips in their ears, for identification, but that was different. Or was it?
Eli wondered if maybe that was all his chip was—identification. Perhaps it was from his real parents, so that when they returned for him, they’d know he was theirs.
As he gazed at the scenery, he let himself fall into one of his favorite daydreams, about his wonderful parents who’d been desperately looking for him all these years.
Outside the van, the scenery changed from the city to the highway, then to charming cul-de-sacs, populated by attractive homes on wide lots. His wonderful parents might live in a neighborhood just like this.
Khan slammed the brakes suddenly and brought the van to a screeching halt.
“We’re there?” Eli asked.
“About a block away still, but check this out.”
Eli leaned forward and looked at the road in front of the van. A small creature with a long tail and big brown eyes blinked up at them.
“Is that a rat?” Eli asked. The creature tipped its head and stared back at him, as if to say, and what are you?
Khan rolled down his window and waved his arm. “Shoo. Get off the road, little rat.”
The creature barked, as if to say, I’m a dog, you dummy.
Khan honked the horn, which finally got the tiny dog moving off the roadway and down a sidewalk.
Khan started the van rolling again and shuddered dramatically. “This street is so creepy. Let’s get this job done and get the hell out of here.”
; Eli looked around at the manicured lawns, colorful houses, and beautiful gardens. He hadn’t thought it until Khan said the words, but the street was creepy in its perfection, like the ironic setting for a horror movie.
He spotted what he thought was their destination. One house looked different from the others. Instead of being a bright color, it was painted a drab brown, had a less-than perfect garden, and a patchy-looking lawn that had grown two inches taller than that of its impeccable neighbors.
The tiny dog who’d been running alongside them on the sidewalk gave them one more look, then ran into the open doorway of the brown house.
To Eli’s surprise, Khan didn’t stop the van at the brown house with the overgrown lawn. They kept driving for another block, then stopped in front of a cheery yellow house with a perfect front yard.
They stepped out of the van.
Eli could hear a woman yelling, her voice coming through an open window in the house, “Not my good china! Bad ghost! Bad! Put that down!” There was a crash that sounded like someone’s good china being thrown on a tile floor.
Khan didn’t have to check the numbers scrawled on his forearm. They were definitely at the right address.
Chapter Three
Eli wanted to charge into the haunted house, but Khan steadied him with a hand against his chest.
“We ring the doorbell this time,” Khan said. “Like para-professionals.”
Eli turned his head to listen. The woman wasn’t screaming in terror, just muttering unhappily as she—judging by the sound of it—swept up piles of broken china.
They rang the doorbell, and a moment later the door opened. Their client was a weary-looking but spry senior citizen, with a well-behaved miniature poodle standing quietly at her side.
Both the woman and the poodle had tightly-curled, white hair. The dog wore a rhinestone-studded pink collar that matched the woman’s glasses. Eli found it unusual that the dog wasn’t going nuts over the doorbell ringing, like most little dogs he’d known.