Baylor's Guide to Dreadful Dreams

by Robert Imfeld

  The next half hour passed by in a blur of confused radio messages. It was clear Scott rarely deviated from his set flight paths, so he was stumbling over all sorts of procedural questions. Jenni did her best to help him, but I had the feeling that, aside from patting him on the back and telling him he was doing a good job, she was pretty useless as a copilot.

  Finally we began the descent into Wilmington, a small city on the coast of North Carolina.

  “The coast guard will have a car waiting for us there,” Scott said. “The base is about ten minutes from the airport.”

  “That sounds like good news,” I said.

  He sighed. “We’ll see. We’ve got some connections that got us this far; we’ll see how much further they get us.”

  * * *

  When we finally landed, a burly coast guard member greeted us on the runway.

  “You all go on ahead,” Scott said, “we gotta wrap up the plane.”

  “We’re not going?” Jenni screeched.

  “This is their thing,” Scott said. “Our task is done.”

  “But I want to watch!”

  “That plane ride with all the ghosts and messages wasn’t enough for you? You kidding me?”

  Jenni pouted, but I didn’t say anything. We couldn’t waste our time just because of her. Dad and I piled into their SUV, and we were gone in a flash.

  TIP

  21

  A ghost’s gotta do what a ghost’s gotta do.

  WHEN WE ARRIVED AT THE Coast Guard station, I was shocked to find Helios and Dina Papadopoulos waiting for us there.

  “Baylor!” Helios said, rising from his chair with surprising ease. He was much older than I was expecting, a cloud of thick, white hair covering his head. Dina’s eyes were red and puffy, and she looked like she hadn’t slept in week. She probably hadn’t. “You made it.” He ran over and pulled me into a massive hug. “I don’t know how I can ever thank you for this.”

  “You don’t need to,” I said. “Let’s just find Helena.”

  Dad introduced himself to Helios, who pulled him into a big hug as well.

  “Oh,” Dad said. “That’s . . . thanks for that.”

  “You have raised a good son,” Helios said. “It’s an honor.”

  Dad smiled. “He takes after his mother.”

  “How are the Percevals?” I asked, somewhat reluctantly.

  His expression sunk. “They are in denial.”

  “They don’t believe it.”

  He nodded.

  “Fair enough,” I said. “That’s not exactly news anyone wants to get.”

  “I would have reacted the same way if I were in their shoes,” he said quietly. “In these shoes, however, I can still cling to hope.”

  Dina came up and hugged me as well. “We’ll find her, Baylor,” she said. “I know we will.”

  “What are we waiting for?” I asked.

  “It should only be a few more minutes now,” Helios said. “The Florida coast guard commander is talking to the one here, telling him everything he knows.” He looked back at them, almost suspiciously, and turned to me, leaning in. “There is some doubt in the air about the truthfulness of your claims. There seems to be a feeling they shouldn’t waste resources chasing leads submitted by children instead of focusing on the solid weather data they’ve collected.”

  No surprise there. “I’ll talk to whomever needs convincing,” I said. “It won’t take long.”

  Helios smiled. “Your confidence,” he said. “I like it.”

  “I’m getting nervous,” Kristina said. “They need to hurry up.”

  “What? That’s not good.” When Kristina gets nervous, I get nervous.

  Helios and Dina looked at me strangely.

  “Oh, listen, I’m just going to warn you all right now,” I said, turning to the people in my immediate vicinity—Dad, Helios, and Dina, and a few coast guard members—“my sister Kristina is here helping us, and I’ll be talking to her all night. If it bothers anyone, feel free to walk away.” I turned back to Kristina. “Anyway, what’s wrong?”

  “I can’t explain it,” she said. “It’s almost like a timer was set from the moment Archie crossed over, and I’m just waiting for it to buzz, for everything to be too late.”

  I nodded. “Right. In that case, let’s get a move on.”

  I walked toward the offices in the back of the room—it was a rather cavernous, gray space, with random highlights of the classic coast guard orange here and there.

  I knocked on the open door and peeked my head in.

  A man in a dark blue jumpsuit was talking on the phone, deep in conversation. The tag on his jumpsuit read BRICKSON.

  “Excuse me?” I said politely. “Are we nearly ready to go?”

  He looked like he’d never been asked that question before.

  “We’ll be ready when I say we’re ready.”

  “Can I help with something?” I said, flipping the switch to tune in, and suddenly I felt really bad—Brickson had a lot of immediate family waiting to pass messages. His mom, dad, both sets of grandparents, a sister, several cousins, two aunts, and an uncle.

  “Did a tragedy occur in your family?” I said, not thinking about what I was saying, not really speaking to just him anymore. “There are so many young family members here.”

  “A car accident took five of us out at once,” the dad said, nodding. “Talk about a bad day.”

  “Wow,” I said, turning back to Brickson. “Sorry about that.”

  Now he looked at me as though I’d just swallowed a live rat for fun.

  “I . . . I presume you’re Baylor Bosco.”

  “Yep,” I said, “and this can go one of a few ways. You’ll get to take your pick.”

  “Stop,” he said. “I’m staking my entire career on the line here, son. But I’m willing to do that, and I’ll believe you—if you can tell me one thing.”

  “I’ll try,” I said.

  “What number am I thinking of?”

  “What? I can’t read minds, that’s not—”

  But his parents cut me off. “Well, his favorite number is twenty-seven, so that’s a good guess,” his dad said.

  “No, his favorite number is eleven,” his mom said. “What are you talking about?”

  “His jersey number in college was twenty-seven. He’s always loved it.”

  “But he was born on the eleventh. That’s his favorite number, I guarantee it.”

  “Okay,” I said, “I may not be able to read minds, but your parents are helping me out. They can’t agree on your favorite number, but they keep going back and forth between eleven and twenty-seven. Is it one of those?”

  He dropped his phone. “I was thinking 1,127.”

  “Not exactly making it easy on me, Brickson.”

  He picked up the phone. “I have all I need here, Florida. Will report back soon.” He hung up, stacked the papers in front of him, and said, “Let’s go find Helena.”

  After a brief safety talk, we loaded into the helicopters. We had to pare down, though, and save spots for the two bodies—one alive, one not—we were hoping to find, leaving room for just me, Dad, Brickson, the pilot, and a rescuer. Helios put up a fight, demanding to go, but Brickson put a stop to it.

  “We need to limit the emotional level here,” Brickson said. “Believe me, sir—we will do everything we can to find your daughter and bring her back to safety.”

  Helios was crying, not accepting Brickson’s answer, but Dina wrapped her arms around him and pulled him back.

  “Onward,” Brickson said to the rest of us, stone-faced.

  “Are we goin’ on that thing, too?” Charlie asked, hesitant. “It seems a bit unstable, don’ it? And we’ll be over the ocean?”

  “No one’s forcing you to do anything, Charlie,” Kristina said, doing her best to sound polite.

  “We have a duty to Baylor,” Colonel Fleetwood said, “but you can head back to the Beyond whenever you’d like.”

  Charlie looked from
the colonel to Kristina to me and shook his head.

  “Nah,” he said. “I’ve come this far, haven’ I? Can’ stop now. Ten-Buck Chuck’s always up for an adventure, after all!”

  I’d never flown on a helicopter before, and I’d be perfectly content never flying on one again. Unlike the usually smooth flight of a plane, every move in a helicopter is obvious and bone-rattling. You could feel every jerk, every turn, every bump caused by something unknown in the air.

  Brickson was manning the spotlight, zigzagging the light all over the water below. “Baylor,” he said into his headphones—we had to wear them again to hear over the deafening roar of the helicopter blades—“I never say this, and I will never admit to saying this on record should something go wrong tonight, but you’re in charge here. Tell us what we need to do.”

  I looked at Kristina. “Got any tips here?”

  She shook her head. “Just follow your soul.”

  “Great,” I said under my breath. More loudly, I said, “Just keep heading east for now.”

  As we ventured out over the open water, there was a certain charge in the air. I didn’t know whether it had something to do with the soul connection, or maybe it was just the familiarity of it from my dreams, or maybe it was just the weather. Regardless, I knew we were on the right path.

  “This still doesn’t add up to me,” Brickson said a few minutes later, lighting up the water below. “It’s nearly impossible their boat would have drifted north, let alone this far north.”

  I wasn’t going to argue with coast guard–approved math and data analysis. These guys could outsmart me any day.

  “The other side works in mysterious ways, I guess,” I said with a shrug.

  “Oy,” Charlie said quietly, staring intensely at Brickson. “Wait a second . . .”

  That’s when the helicopter began to shake in a sudden violent way.

  “What the—?” my dad yelled into the headset. “What is that?”

  “Systems check is clear,” the pilot said. “Weather is stable.”

  Brickson seemed unfazed. “What were you saying about mysteries, Baylor?” he asked with a dark chuckle.

  The helicopter jerked to the right in a way that definitely felt unnatural.

  “It’s them!” Charlie yelped.

  “What is that?” I asked, looking from him to Kristina. She, however, was looking out the windows, her eyes tense and fierce.

  “I’m such a fool,” she said, the tone of her voice a confusing mingling of devastation and determination. “I can’t believe I didn’t piece this together.”

  “Kristina, what is it?”

  She looked visibly panicked—though not as panicked as Charlie—standing up from the seat next to me, random bursts of blue energy popping from her form.

  “It’s the Lost Souls, Baylor,” she said. “It’s been them this whole time.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They’re the reason the wreckage got pulled north,” she said.

  “The Lost Souls did it?”

  “Archie and Helena crossed their path, and they latched onto their boat, pulled it north, and have been waiting to collect their souls,” she said. “Except you . . . you interfered somehow. But how?”

  “I’m not sure!”

  “But then . . . but why?” she stammered, frantic, as if our lives depended on the what she was thinking. “Has it been a trick this whole time?” She squinted her eyes, trying to piece the puzzle together. “It doesn’t make sense. The last week, I’ve been wondering how you could communicate with Archie and Helena, when there are millions of people suffering around the world. Why could you suddenly talk to them for no apparent reason? Did the Lost Souls form that connection?” She looked like she might pass out, if she could pass out. “Or was it something else?”

  I was starting to panic. I had never seen her look so nervous.

  “Can you feel them?” she asked, her voice suddenly sharp. “What are we going to do?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “The Lost Souls, Baylor,” she said, “they’re coming for us. They’d only wanted Archie and Helena’s souls, and now they’ve got the added bonus of feasting on ours too.”

  “Arm the defenses,” the colonel called out, a blazing white light shining from his sword. He jumped out of the helicopter and landed on the windshield, ready to slay anything that came too close.

  I couldn’t feel the Lost Souls like they could, but I could feel something else. The memory of Archie talking about his parents was becoming clearer, more vivid, more alive, like a newborn gasping for breath. “We’re near Helena, too.”

  “Of course we are,” she said. “It’s a trap. They’d stay near to her so they could swoop her up. But why didn’t they swoop up Archie?”

  “The piece of my soul?” I suggested. “Maybe it’s protecting him?”

  “It’s a possibility,” she said.

  The helicopter jerked to the left, then the right. Charlie had been standing near the entrance, spreading his blue energy around the helicopter. Kristina noticed and extended her hand out to assist with the protections. Ribbons of blinding blue energy shot out and circled around us.

  “Baylor,” Brickson said, “I’m deferring to you here. I want to save this girl, but if you know we’re entering into something dangerous, then we need to turn back.”

  “We’re almost there!” I yelled. “We can’t turn back now.”

  “This ain’ a pretty sight, Baylor,” Charlie bellowed from the entrance.

  I looked out the window, and between the spotlight and the moon, I could see the trouble we were approaching. Just ahead, an eerie green mist billowed just above the waves, as the Lost Souls—a mixture of Ashens and morphing dark spirits—drifted ominously, slowly, waiting for their prey.

  Suddenly an Ashen flew past the helicopter, and the power seemed to sputter.

  “Baylor!” yelled a voice from outside. “Kristina!” It was Archie, caught in the Ashen’s grasp.

  “No!” Kristina yelled, blasting blue energy at the Ashen, but missing it. It swerved back toward us, its billowy, misshapen figure blending in with the dark sky. Luckily its eyes, burning green and vicious, helped to pinpoint its precise location. Colonel Fleetwood jumped from the windshield and, in a brilliant flash of light, speared the demon through its gut.

  It let out a wretched scream, comprised of the agony of one thousand mourning mothers, released Archie, and hurtled back down to rejoin its fellow lost souls. Two more immediately shot up to take the wounded demon’s place.

  “We’ll never be able to fight them all off to save Helena in time,” the colonel shouted through the entrance before turning back around to battle the demons. He slashed at the demons, which took swipes at both him and the helicopter, and we jerked violently.

  “Baylor,” Dad said, “are we in danger? What’s going on?”

  Charlie was looking sadly down at Helena on top of the overturned boat, just next to Archie’s dead body.

  “I worked on a boat for years and years,” he said softly. “I’ve heard stories about the mysterious disasters at sea. I know what these things can do.” He didn’t seem to be talking to me and Kristina. “They won’ stop attacking until they get their soul.” He chuckled softly. “Luckily they’re not too picky. Any soul’ll do.”

  “Kristina,” the colonel shouted, “there’s a third one coming. I need backup!”

  “Charlie?” Kristina said, ignoring the colonel, her tone panicked.

  “I can’t let ’em take her,” he said. “It can’ go like that.” He turned to us, his lopsided form highlighted from the shaking of the helicopter.

  “Kristina!” the colonel shouted. The helicopter shook just then; the lights flickered, and the sharp pull in the pit of my stomach indicated we lost a few feet of altitude.

  “Baylor!” Dad and Brickson shouted simultaneously.

  “Charlie, no,” Kristina shrieked. “We can figure it out.”

  “Baylor, can you hea
r me?” Dad shouted.

  “Hold on,” I shouted.

  “An O’Brien man must do what he must do,” Charlie said. He nodded to us, his face resolute, and he turned around and jumped out the entrance into the swarm of Lost Souls below.

  The colonel, busy fighting the demons, didn’t notice him fall until it was too late. “What are you doing, Charlie?!” he shouted. “Come back!”

  Immediately the spirits circled him, like a deranged flock of pigeons fighting over the biggest, freshest bread crumb ever. The two that Colonel Fleetwood had been fighting joined the feasting, and he returned seconds later, his expression stunned.

  “He just sacrificed his eternal soul for the girl,” he said. “He’ll be at their mercy forever, unable to cross back into the Beyond. I’m not sure I’ve ever met anyone that brave.”

  “We can’t let it be in vain,” Kristina said, still eyeing the Lost Souls. “That’ll keep them at bay for only so long. Baylor, do you have matches?”

  “Of course!”

  “Your amulet,” she said. “Take it off, light it on fire, and drop it into the mist.”

  “Don’t I need it for protection?” I asked. “Especially here?”

  “If this thing’s as strong as I think it is, we should be safe for the time being.”

  I pulled the amulet off my neck, took out my box of matches, and struck one live.

  “Baylor!” Brickson yelled. “Are you crazy? Put that out! You can’t light that in here!”

  “I can if it saves our lives,” I said. I touched the flame to the amulet, which caught fire beautifully, like a miniature sun, and looked at Kristina. “Ready?” I asked.

  “Do it!”

  I chucked it out the open door, and the colonel brandished his burning white sword. He sliced at the amulet and batted it toward the frenzied feeding demons below. Kristina, watching it fall for several seconds, took aim and shot her blue energy into the mist.

  TIP

  22

  UPDATE: Amulets are fantastic at keeping bad spirits away. (Still bad for blending in, though.)