The Ghost Files 4: Part 2

by Apryl Baker

  It’s what I do.

  Chapter Nine

  ~Mattie~

  I feigned sleep to get everyone out of the room. I’d woken up to my grandmother instead of Dan. Not that I’m not glad she was there; I just missed Dan. I’m used to him being around when I wake up, but I did tell him to go home and get some new clothes. He stank in a bad, bad way.

  I heard Josiah say they were dragging Zeke home to change, and then they were all going to get dinner before coming back. Which means I have at least a couple hours of peace and quiet. I know Zeke’s concerned about ghosts since he can’t very well salt doors and windows in a hospital. Not a lot you can do, though, unless you want the staff to think you’re certifiable.

  My headache is gone, at least. I think that has more to do with the drugs they gave me than my getting better. They’ve already dragged me down for no fewer than three CTs over the last few hours. I’m not sure what they think is going to change in a few hours, but I guess it makes them feel better to be doing something useful.

  I’m not concerned about dying. Silas said he wouldn’t let me die, and I trust him. He has plans for me, and dying isn’t a part of them.

  I let out a hollow laugh. A demon has plans for me. Never in my wildest dreams could I conjure up this scenario. Sure, I see dead people, but demons? Throw in angels and Lord knows what other kind of supernatural beasties out there, and it’s Supernatural hyped up on super mega steroids.

  All I ever wanted was to have a family and be a normal person.

  Well, I have the family, but I have accepted I’ll never be normal. If I can just survive, I’ll count it as a win.

  “Finally, you’re awake!”

  I look up to see my foster sister, Mary Cross, breeze into the room, her long honey blonde hair pulled up in a loose ponytail. Her tone might be light and airy, but the worry in her blue eyes belies her easy attitude. Her mom must have warned her about my condition. It’s not an easy thing knowing the next seizure could kill you. I still haven’t let myself dwell on it.

  “For the minute.” I yawn. Sleep seems to be pulling at me when I’m awake. The body’s way of trying to heal itself. “You and me, we’re gonna have words.”

  She frowns and plops down in the chair next to the bed. “What did I do?”

  “Let’s see, how about failing to mention you had a run-in with Deleriel, and now he seems to want to take you back down under with him?”

  Her eyes go wide. “What? He said no such thing. Who told you that?”

  “Silas told me. He may be a lot of things, Mary, but he’s not a liar. Deleriel intends to have you. What did you do to get the attention of a fallen angel?”

  “Nothing!” Her eyes squint as she thinks. “I was just protecting Noah.”

  “How did you protect him?” Mary might be able to hear ghosts, but she’s in no way supernatural. She’s very much a human. It never made sense to me how she stopped him, but we’d not gotten the chance to talk about it either, circumstances being what they were.

  “I stood up to Deleriel and told him he couldn’t have the baby. I wouldn’t let him.”

  “You stood up to a fallen angel?” My sister is a hundred times braver than I am, but that is probably what caught the demon’s attention. I shake my head. She did the right thing, but it probably sealed her fate.

  “What?”

  “Mary, no one stands up to him, not even Silas. Until you.”

  “You think if I’d let him eat the baby, that would have been better?” The outraged fury on her face makes me almost feel sorry for Deleriel. When Mary gets pissed, people flee in front of her.

  “No, I don’t think you should have let him eat the baby.” I can’t help the sarcasm. When I get scared, I get snarky. It’s a defense mechanism.

  “Then what else was I supposed to do?” she asks angrily.

  The pain starts right behind my left eye. Stress headache. “There’s not a lot you could have done, Mary. I know that. I just wished you would have told me about it sooner.”

  “Mattie, you were at your dad’s getting ready for the party. I was going to tell you when I saw you there. Then you and Meg went missing and…” She lets her voice trail off. Then Meg died. She doesn’t have to say it. I went home with Zeke, and when I got back to her house, she didn’t have time either, what with Kayla going missing and all.

  I rub my eye trying to ease some of the stabbing pain. “I know, Mary. I’m sorry, it’s just I’m worried. Deleriel…I don’t know how I’m supposed to defeat him, and thinking he might escape with you? It just adds an extra layer of fear to all this.”

  “Why does it have to be you, Mattie?” She leans forward, propping her arms on the mattress. “Let the Malones deal with it. It’s what they do. You just concentrate on getting better.”

  “I wish I could.” I give her a rundown of everything Silas had told me, including the part about him being my grandfather and Eli’s reaction to it.

  “Well, that’s going to make for some fun Christmas dinners.”

  “You don’t care I’m part demon?” I glance at her face out of the corner of my eye. She doesn’t look disgusted or horrified. In fact, she’s smiling.

  “You’re my sister, Mattie. You could be the devil’s child himself and I wouldn’t care. You saved my life. Not just down in that basement either. You helped me through the months after we escaped. You understood and never let me sink so far into depression, I didn’t come back from it. That was all you. You’re the best person I know, and if Eli can’t see past his own racism, then that’s all on him. He doesn’t deserve you.”

  “Racism?”

  “Sure. He’s racist against demons and anyone with demon blood. His problem, not yours.”

  “But demons are evil, Mary…”

  “You stop right there!” She wags her finger at me. “You are no more evil than I am. You are the opposite of evil. You’re good and kind, and you love bigger and harder than anyone I know. Don’t you dare call yourself evil.”

  “I love you, Mary Cross.”

  “I love you too, sister mine. Now, no more talk about Eli and his racist beliefs. Tell me something good.”

  “I met my grandparents.”

  “I know, so did I. They seem pretty awesome. Although, your grandmother looks a little scary.”

  “They kind of are awesome. Lila can be scary too. She tried that with me and got nowhere.”

  Mary laughs. “I bet.”

  “Zeke wants me to go to New Orleans with him.”

  “What?” She sits up and eyeballs me. “New Orleans?”

  “I’ve been thinking about it.”

  “Why?” She sounds more curious than angry. Dan had all but blown up on me.

  “No one knows me there. No rap sheet to worry about. No one staring at me with pity because of everything that’s happened to me. No reminders of Mrs. Olson and that basement. It could be an honest to goodness chance to start over with a clean slate, Mary.”

  “Then you should do it.”

  I glance up, startled at the conviction in her voice. She’s staring at me, but she’s not. It’s more like she’s staring through me. “If you have the chance to try to put that basement behind you, then you should. I hear you at night, crying in your sleep, begging her to stop. If you can escape the nightmares, then you should.”

  We’ll never be able to escape the nightmares. All the therapy in the world isn’t going to erase what happened to either of us down there, trapped with a madwoman bent on torturing us. Mary isn’t the only one who hears things. I hear her screaming at night, crying out. I don’t know if anyone can ever truly get past something like what happened to us. It scarred our souls.

  “Why don’t you come with me?” The look of longing in her eyes prompts me to pose the same question to her that I did Dan, but for an entirely different reason. “We could both start over in a place where we’re not reminded every day about that basement.”

  And we are. Every time Mary goes for a walk, she sees that
night in the rain when Mrs. Olson hit her with her car and took her. Every time I think about foster care, I’m reminded of Mrs. Olson. Not all of my foster care memories are bad ones, but here in North Carolina? All I think about is Mrs. Olson. I obsess about it. I always try to figure out why I didn’t see the signs, why I didn’t know something was off with her. I should have known and been better able to protect myself.

  “To New Orleans?” Mary looks stunned.

  “No, to N’awlins.” I draw the words out exactly like Lila. “Don’t let my grandmother hear you say it any other way. She gets pissy about it.”

  “I don’t know, Mattie. My mom’s here, everyone I know is here. It would be harder for me to just up and move away like that.”

  “I know, but think about it. It could be good for you, to get away from here, from the memories.” The door swishes open and we both turn to see Mary’s mom come in, chart in hand.

  “Mary, honey! I didn’t know you were here.” She starts writing numbers down. “I thought you said you had a date later tonight.”

  “Date?” I give her a sly look. “A date with Caleb, perhaps?”

  “Yes, a date with Caleb.” A blush steals across her cheeks, and her mom chuckles. “He texted earlier, though. Said he might have to cancel. His dad has him doing something.”

  “Then you can come keep me company tonight.” I yawn. “Protect me from the grandparents coddling.”

  “Let them coddle you.” Mrs. Cross ruffles my hair, much the same way Caleb does. “It makes them feel better.”

  “I know, I just need to get used it, I guess.”

  “Mom, how would you feel if I went away to school?”

  Mrs. Cross pauses, her hand frozen on top of my head. “Go away?”

  Mary bites her lip. “Yeah, I know I took some time off, but I’ve been thinking about college a lot lately.”

  “You were all set to go to NCU before…before the incident.”

  “That’s just it. Mattie and I were talking about everything that happened to us. It’s hard to be here, Mom. Every day it’s hard to get up and not think about what happened. I think maybe going away for a while might help me.”

  Mrs. Cross sits on my bed. “Mattie, do you feel the same way? Is it hard for you too?”

  I nod. Leave it to Mary to tackle this headfirst. She’s blunt. More so than even me. “Therapy can only do so much, Mrs. Cross. For me, North Carolina is one big horror story. Just being here brings up memories of all the bad things that happened to me.”

  “Girls, I don’t want either of you to suffer. If being here is causing you pain, then you should go.”

  “But what about you, Mom?” Mary tilts her head. “What would you do if we left?”

  “Same thing I do now.” Mrs. Cross smiles. “Get up, go to work, fend off the crotchety old men who come in from the old folks’ homes. Maybe try Match dot com?”

  “Online dating?” Mary scrunches up her nose. “I don’t know about that now.”

  That prompts a laugh out of her mother. “Where are you girls thinking of going?”

  “My dad wants me to go to New Orleans with him. I’m sure he can get Mary into Tulane or LSU.”

  “This close to the semester starting?” Mrs. Cross looks skeptical.

  “Mom, her dad has money, and he’s from New Orleans. I’m sure all he’d have to do is make a phone call.”

  I nod, ignoring the pain it causes. “That’s true.”

  Mrs. Cross is quiet for a long time, just sitting there thinking. It freaks us both out a little. Mary worries her bottom lip with her teeth while I drum my fingertips against the mattress. When she speaks, it startles us both. “I love you girls, and I’ll miss you, but your wellbeing is more important to me than anything. If going away will help you deal with the nightmares, with the memories, then I am all for it.”

  “Really?” Mary leans back, not expecting that.

  “Girls, I can’t say I won’t miss you, but you’re both growing up. You need to start learning to be adults, and that means I need to learn to let you make decisions. Part of being a parent is knowing when to let go, and if this helps you deal with the incident, then you should do it. Now, I have to go down the hall and check on Mr. Muncy.”

  “Isn’t he the one who always tries to pinch the nurses on the behind?” I remember her complaining about him.

  “That he is.” She laughs and gets to her feet. “Neither of you worry about me. You worry about yourselves. I’m happy as long as you’re happy.”

  Once she leaves, I turn to face my sister. “Are you sure about this? It means leaving everything behind, including Caleb.”

  She frowns, but shrugs. “Caleb is complicated. His dad is pressuring him to join the FBI, but he doesn’t want to. He wants to go to medical school. I think he should stand up for what he wants, but he seems to think he should put his dad’s wishes before his own. Family business and all that.”

  “You two seem to really like each other, though.”

  “I do like Caleb a lot, but I don’t want someone who lets others make decisions for him, decisions that’ll make him bitter later. Caleb needs to do what he wants, or he’ll regret it for the rest of his life.”

  “Well, maybe on your hot date tonight you can broach the subject with him. Tell him you’ve decided to go to college in New Orleans and maybe suggest he apply for medical school down there or something. It’s not like we can go until I deal with Deleriel, anyway. He’s here, not in Louisiana. Silas will never let me leave until I do what he wants.”

  “That’s not at all fair.”

  “Nope, but what choice do I have?” I shrug, dismissing the subject. “You best get home and get cleaned up for your hot date. And I want details.”

  Another blush covers her cheeks in a blanket of cherries. “You get some sleep, Mattie.”

  There’s a gentle knock on my door, and I look over to see Mrs. Owens, Jake’s mother, rolling Jake into my room. He looks better, even if he’s still in a wheelchair.

  It’s not Jake, though. It’ll never be Jake. I dumped Eric, AKA Mirror Boy, into the shell that used to hold the soul of Jake Owens, my ex-boyfriend. He’d also saved me the night his psycho brother Paul tried to kill me. He’d been shot in the process, and his soul passed on, leaving his body alive for any willing soul to enter.

  “Hi, Mattie. We heard you were here, and Jake wanted to come see you. Are you up for some company?”

  She’s beaming. In the span of five minutes she’d gone from deciding to take Jake off life-support to having him wake up. She and her husband know something’s not right, but they don’t care. They have their child, and that’s all that matters to them.

  Jake’s now blue eyes regard me curiously. Eric had the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, and Jake’s were brown. When Eric’s soul entered Jake’s body, his eyes took on the color of Eric’s. Why, I don’t know. Another question to ask either Zeke or Doc. I’m just glad to have my Mirror Boy back.

  Eric was the first ghost I met who could hurt me. He’d been trying to protect me and didn’t know he could cause me physical harm. We’d become friends during my time as Mrs. Olson’s torture victim, and he’d stayed with me, refusing to let me die alone. He’d left only once to try to show Dan where I was. Thankfully, he’d succeeded, and Dan found me before I died, but Eric had stuck around, saying I needed someone to keep me out of trouble. He’d later sacrificed himself to save me from a very nasty ghost, and I’d reaped him, which allowed me to transfer his soul into Jake’s empty body.

  He gives me a hesitant smile. “Hi.”

  The first real smile I’ve had all week crosses my lips. Eric always makes me smile, and even if he never remembers who he is, that simple fact will never change. “Hi.”

  “Is it okay that I came? They said you were really sick, so if you’re tired or something, we can come back…”

  “No, it’s fine.” I sit up and adjust the bed. “I could use some company that’s not my grandparents and Mary was just leaving an
yway.”

  “They’re just worried.” Mrs. Owens wheels Jake/Eric over to my bed as soon as Mary gives me a quick hug and heads out.

  “I know. I’m just not used to so many people fussing over me, I guess.”

  “I am going to go down to the cafeteria and grab some dinner. I should be back in forty-five minutes or an hour. Is that good?”

  “That’s fine, Mrs. Owens.”

  As soon as she’s out of the room and the door closes, Eric gives me the biggest grin. “I didn’t think she’d ever leave.”

  I frown. He sounds like the old Eric, but last I checked, he had no memory of being Eric.

  “Eric?”

  “Who’s Eric?” He tilts his head questioningly.

  “An old friend of mine. I miss him.”

  “Why did you call me by his name?”

  “Sorry, I was just talking out loud. Your mom being a little too clingy?”

  “God, yes. I just wish they’d all leave me alone.” He runs a hand through his hair and grimaces. Jake’s hair is very short. Eric had longer hair. I think, deep down, he knows it’s supposed to be long, even if he doesn’t know why. “I feel bad when she’s here because I don’t know her and she’s trying so hard. Showing me pictures, telling me stories. I don’t remember anything about being Jake.”

  “I’m sorry. I know it has to suck not having any memories.”

  “But that’s just it. I do have memories. Of you. They’re blurry, but they’re there. You’re the only thing or person I can remember. And that name you just called me…Eric…that feels like my name, even though they said I’m Jake.”

  “What kind of memories?” Hope springs to life inside of me. Maybe he will remember who he is if the name Eric is familiar to him.

  “You sitting on this tweed sofa flipping through a magazine. Then another time, you making dinner for some little kids. Then you falling to your knees, your hands over your ears, in a lot of pain.”

  He’s remembering me at my old foster mother’s, Mrs. Olson’s. Eric had been her first victim, and hence he was tied to her. Falling to my knees in a lot pain? First time I realized a ghost could hurt me. Mirror Boy had nearly killed me with his psychic attack.