by Неизвестный
At the third and final house, Khan straightened the artwork that hadn’t been destroyed by the Disturbance while Eli peered warily through the curtains. A crowd of curious onlookers had been following them from house to house, and a dozen people now stood or sat on the front lawn.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this neighborhood,” Eli said. “Shouldn’t we be reporting this to some authorities?”
“Sure. You go ahead and make the call to report a massive outbreak of poltergeists. Be sure and mention the voices you’ve been hearing in your head, from the little dogs talking to you. Go ahead, my man. Call The Number.”
“Not funny,” Eli grumbled. He stayed at the window, counting up the dogs on the front lawn. There were almost as many dogs as people, about ten, and all of them were the same size as Joey’s chihuahua. There was something odd about the dogs, besides the fact that Eli kept hearing them talking in his head. They were all the same size, but some appeared to be breeds that Eli hadn’t known came in miniature versions. He narrowed his eyes at the miniature St. Bernard, as if to say, you make no sense, miniature St. Bernard who shouldn’t exist.
The dog cocked its head and stared back at Eli, as if to say, you make no sense, giant man-baby-blank, so shut up or I’ll bite you.
Eli closed the curtains, then helped Khan straighten the room and put away the pentapods.
“What are the other rules?” Eli asked. “You said the para-electrical elements won’t allow their Disturbances to be recorded. I get that. But what else is in the Ghost Code?”
“It doesn’t matter, because the ones we deal with are the ones who break all the other rules.”
“Sure. But hypothetically, what are the other rules?”
“They’re supposed to keep their hands in their pockets, so to speak, and look but not touch.”
“Like children shopping with their parents in a fancy store?”
Khan knelt down to zip up the bag of equipment. “Exactly. The same rules that apply to time travelers. Observe without interfering.”
Eli rubbed his sore shoulder. “What else?”
Khan looked up, his dark green eyes weary. “I don’t know. I wish I had the answers. I’m not even sure if there are any rules. I make so much stuff up, I forget what’s real sometimes.”
Seeing Khan run out of answers gave Eli an unsettled feeling in his stomach. He saw a crumpled area rug out of the corner of his eye, and for an instant, it was Eli’s adoptive father, the first time he fell down while Eli was out.
The unsettled feeling rose up, blasting static through Eli’s brain and making him feel like he was coming apart at the atomic level.
Everything was chaos, without meaning. He clenched his fists, a growing rage doubling with every ragged breath.
“Burgers,” Khan said.
Eli’s consciousness came back to the present, to the messy living room of their client.
“Burgers?” Eli repeated. As soon as he said the word, his mouth began to water. Hunger took hold in his stomach, and it was a relief, because that very human desire was the opposite of the black emptiness that scared him.
“And fries and shakes.” Khan slung the bags over his shoulders and nodded for them to leave out the back door. They were free to go, because the job had been pre-paid. Good or bad, they had a reputation in the neighborhood.
Eli followed, out the back door and to the van. The colors around him were too bright. The sky was too blue and the grass was too green. It was all too much.
Khan said, “If you’re tired, I can drive.”
Eli handed over the keys, and they drove away.
The sun was low in the sky, an hour from setting. Eli watched houses go by, murky like old memories through the temporary plastic on his window.
“There’s—” Eli’s voice cracked and caught, like it was rusty from not being used for a hundred years. “There’s something going on in that neighborhood,” he said. “I might be new to this, but something tells me five—no, seven—poltergeists in one week is a sign.”
“A sign we’re going to be rich.” Khan grinned, his teeth bright and gleaming in the glare of the setting sun.
“What do you know about…” Eli paused, hesitant to mention something he thought he heard from Joey’s chihuahua. “What do you know about the Dark Grid?”
The speeding van jerked off course momentarily before Khan relaxed his grip on the wheel.
Khan bounced the question back at him. “What do you know about the Dark Grid?”
“Nothing, except the dogs mentioned it. The poodle at the first house on Wednesday said they weren’t part of the plan. Then Nigel said the poltergeists were slipping through.”
“Wait. Are we still pretending the dogs are talking to you?”
“Nigel didn’t say it out loud, of course. But he looked at me, and I heard something in my head. Just keep catching the poltergeists that slip out of the Dark Grid and mind your own business.”
“Hah! You’re messing with me. You went back to the comic shop and bought those same books I did. You read that story where the treasure-hunters fell into something they called a Dark Grid. Very funny, Eli, you big geek.”
“I am a big geek, but I haven’t been to the comic shop since Wednesday. We could go now, though. They’re still open.”
“Nice try.”
“Khan, I’m not messing with you. The dog really did beam something into my head.”
“We need to get you a special hat with a foil lining, to keep those thoughts out. Now stop being weird, or I’ll douse you in barbecue sauce, drop you down in the middle of the Zone, and let the Crashers feast on your delicious body.”
Eli shuddered at the thought of being dumped in the Zone, with or without barbecue sauce on his delicious body. He didn’t know what would be worse: becoming one of the people they ripped apart and ate, or surviving long enough to level up to Stage One Crasher.
“Talking dogs,” Khan muttered. “Like we don’t have enough to deal with in this city.”
Eli looked out the window at the passing scenery. “Have you ever thought about moving away?”
“Every city’s got its downsides. Sometimes I think we’re better off with the devil we know, versus the unknown. Those perfect, pretty cities freak me out. I think they’re tempting fate, with their postcard-perfect city parks. Me, I like a grungy city. It’s got more character.”
“So, you’re not trying to save up money to get out of here and start fresh?”
Khan chuckled. “If I move away, who’s going to support Brandee with two e’s and keep her from falling in with a bad crowd? The girl just loves to dance, my man. She wouldn’t be happy as a dental hygienist.”
“She sounds like a carrier of disease.”
Khan did a double take. “What did you just say?”
“I said the wrong thing.” Eli clapped his hand to his forehead in shame. “We were at that point in the conversation where I’m supposed to say she sounds like a nice girl, but she doesn’t sound nice at all. Especially that thing you say she does with ping pong balls.” Eli shook his head. “Brandee with two e’s is not dental hygienist material.”
Khan grinned. “I’m glad you have such high brow tastes. More Brandee for me.”
“All yours.”
“That’s right.” Khan turned up the volume on the van’s stereo and sang along with a classic rock song, Roy Orbison’s Pretty Woman.
Eli joined in on the chorus, and they sang the end in harmony.
When the next song started, they tried to sing along, but neither knew the words, and the moment was gone.
Eli lifted a bandage and checked on his forearm piranha bite. The scab pulled off with the bandage, revealing pink, unbroken skin. The bruise color was gone. That healed fast, he thought, but he didn’t think too much of it, because he’d always been a fast healer.
Khan turned the stereo down and said, “Honestly, I don’t know what’s happening in that neighborhood, but we’re going to make some serious money.”<
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“It does seem lucrative.”
“Serious money.”
“If you say so, boss.”
Eli didn’t always notice details, but he did notice something now: Khan’s grin didn’t extend to his eyes. His enthusiasm was a lie.
Something was going on in that neighborhood. Something big. And bad. The ghost hackers could keep going on calls and keep getting paid, but the problem was only going to get bigger and badder.
So far that week, the poltergeists hadn’t harmed anyone but Eli, but it was only a matter of time before someone got hurt. Eli wouldn’t be able to live with himself if the person getting hurt was Joey.
On Sunday, when he saw the kid, he would ask more questions. The four of them would eat medieval food and play games, but that was just a cover. Eli’s real mission was to find out what Joey knew about the big, bad thing happening on his street.
Chapter Ten
On Saturday, Eli and Brenda went shopping as planned. They bought a new frying pan, a spice rack, two cold-smoked ribeye steaks, and twelve pairs of underwear that looked like they might ride up Eli’s crack.
On Sunday morning, Eli put on his new underwear, and he was pleased to find that not only did the navy blue briefs not ride up unpleasantly, they also transformed him into a new man. They looked like the sort of underwear a comic book hero would wear under his tights.
In the privacy of the apartment’s bathroom, with the door shut, Eli admired himself in the mirror. Maybe it was the influence of all the flattering things Brenda had been saying lately, but Eli Carter was one good-looking man of approximately thirty.
His medium-brown hair had a golden sheen, and his jaw had a heroic squareness to it. Three days of moving furniture and skipping lunch had converted a couple of Eli Carter’s fat pounds into muscle pounds, but he couldn’t have known that. Unlike Brenda, he didn’t watch his weight or measurements closely. He dropped to the bathroom floor, did ten push-ups, then jumped up and quickly flexed for his reflection.
The new underwear certainly accented what appeared to be the beginning of a six-pack of visible abdominal muscles.
Eli examined his abs for a while, then pulled open the drawer that held a jumble of Brenda’s makeup. He pulled out a container of brown eye shadow, thought about it for a minute, then shrugged, and began applying the brown powder along his vestigial six-pack creases.
After a few minutes, Brenda tapped on the door and reminded him to turn on the fan since he was obviously committing bathroom crimes. He was not, but the truth was much worse, so he guiltily turned on the fan anyway.
Eli invited Brenda to come along to the Renn Faire, but she said it would be overstimulating to meet all those new people and also attend a crowded festival.
She stood by the front door, watching him lace up his weekend shoes. Compared to the olive green clothes he’d been wearing throughout the week, he felt like a comic book panel in his bright blue jeans, black and white sneakers, and red T-shirt.
“You’re sweet to take that kid with you,” she said.
Eli finished tying his shoe and looked up at Brenda. Her eyes were glossy, like she was about to cry. His mind reeled, replaying the last few minutes. Even after a quick replay, he had no idea what she was upset about.
“Good times,” he said.
“Do you love me?” she asked.
He broke out in a cold sweat. “Of course I do. What’s wrong?”
“Do you wish you had a kid of your own? Is that why you’re taking this Joey out?”
“No. I’m taking him out because he tricked me. I’m not planning to adopt him.”
She smiled and blinked away the sheen in her eyes. “Okay. I was just being silly. I didn’t sleep much last night, because I was worried about Monty. He didn’t come home.”
Eli got up from his kneeling position and pulled Brenda into a hug.
“The cat wraith? He’s a big boy. And I don’t know if we should be referring to our apartment as his home.”
She pulled away and smiled up at him teasingly. “You’re just jealous because Monty likes me better.”
“Why does he like you better?”
She shrugged. “Have fun at your geek circus.”
“You know I will.”
He kissed her goodbye and hurried off.
He was running late, as usual, because his one-minute shower had run a little longer than anticipated.
Eli met the Hart siblings at Ghost Hackers, where they showed him the bench seat they’d salvaged for the van.
Back when Eli had originally purchased the van, he’d gotten it from the delivery driver whose route he was taking over. It didn’t come with a bench seat, because that decreased the room available for packages.
While the two Harts installed the seat, Eli stood off to the side, feeling useless. The two of them easily shared tools back and forth, coordinating their actions without words. Eli remembered what Khan had said about his sister talking to him while she was still in the womb, and he wondered if it was true.
He would have tried to casually bring up the topic, but Valentine was bending over, and it took most of Eli’s cognitive powers to not stare at her curvy butt.
Eli drove them to Joey’s house. Khan put on his sunglasses and snoozed in the side passenger seat. Valentine sat on the newly-installed bench seat and tapped away on a laptop. She had two tablets and a phone on the bench next to her, and appeared to be using all four gadgets simultaneously.
When he was reasonably sure Khan was sleeping, Eli asked Valentine what she knew about the Dark Grid.
She answered without looking up from her screens, “It’s more of a membrane, so I never liked that name.”
So, the Dark Grid was real. A chill went up Eli’s spine, followed by the hug-like warmth of satisfaction from being right about a hunch.
“What does it do?” Eli asked.
“You must know what a membrane is. It’s something semi-permeable that keeps apart all the things that shouldn’t be together.”
“Like ghosts and people?”
She made a scoffing sound. “Would you take all the Hydrogen atoms out of water?”
Eli thought over what Valentine had said. He was no science genius, but he knew the formula for water was H20, with hydrogen atoms and oxygen atoms forming water molecules.
“Valentine, are you saying people are partly made of ghosts?”
“It’s not really a new theory.” She tapped away at both her keyboard and phone, multi-tasking. “For further reference, see: every major religion.” The typing speed increased. He thought he heard her snicker.
Eli frowned at the street ahead of him. Valentine had tricked him into saying something stupid. If she’d used the word spirit, or soul, he would never have asked if people were partly made of ghosts. It wasn’t very nice of her to use her genius against him like that.
He kept driving in silence, his irritation stewing. Ever since Friday, he’d been looking forward to this outing with the Hart siblings. Now he wasn’t sure. Except for the installation of the bench seat, which was a great addition to the van, the day was turning out all wrong.
They arrived in Joey’s neighborhood and slowly drove up to the drab brown house, number 2860.
Eli frowned at the house. It actually wasn’t exactly brown. There was some purple to the hue on the siding, and some green. It was the color of bruise.
The lawn had grown even longer in the last few days, thanks to overnight spring showers. The brightly-hued houses on either side, with impeccable lawns and gardens, seemed to be staring straight ahead in annoyance, disgusted by their sloppy, slow-witted friend. As Eli parked and jumped out of the van, then walked up to Joey’s door with Khan and Valentine on either side of him, he compared himself to the bruise-colored house. He was the drab one, between the amazing Hart siblings.
Valentine rang the doorbell and smiled warmly in anticipation of the door opening. Nobody came.
She rang the doorbell again. And again.
Eventually, a woman opened the door. Presumably Joey’s mother, she had the same big, sad eyes as the kid. Her hair looked oily and was matted in clumps. Valentine introduced the three of them and shook the woman’s hand.
Joey’s mother had the same dead-eyed, vacant stare as a Crasher. When she dim-wittedly turned and offered her hand to Eli, he fought his revulsion and shook it politely.
“My name is Eli,” he said.
“Elliot,” the woman said. “Elephant. You’re the elephant. Elouise. Elizabeth. L-M-N-O-P.”
Joey appeared and pushed her back behind him. “Mom!”
She stumbled backward, into the house. From what Eli could see from the doorway, the home’s interior was very different from the other houses on the street, but not in layout. The front hall and living room were full of cardboard boxes, discarded clothes, and dirty dishes. He’d seen hoarding before, but the shocking thing about this home, besides it being real and not on his TV or computer screen, was the massive network of cables and wires criss-crossing the upper third of the room. Joey’s mother must have had to duck to get to the front door.
The house made Eli feel alert. It smelled bad, but that was expected. There was something else, something he couldn’t see or smell or hear, but could feel in his bone marrow. The feeling was not painful, nor was it unpleasant.
If he had to describe this feeling in comparison to something common and everyday, he’d say it was the feeling he got in the instant after logging into his computer accounts, before his new messages came up on the screen, appearing in bold text to show they were still unread, still full of possibility. It was enthrallment.
Eli’s feet stayed in their laced-up black and white weekend shoes, planted on the front step, but his body leaned forward. He leaned toward the home’s open doorway like a seedling snaking toward a sunny window.
The acrid smell of an unwashed person in movement pushed him back again.
Joey’s mother crouched down in front of her son and patted his hair. “You have fun, James.”