by R. R. Virdi
“Get it.” Lizzie’s voice weakened in concert with her flailing.
The remains of the shadow man were dispatched within moments.
All was silent once again. Nobody moved.
“Jesus Christ.” Ortiz’s eyes were wide. Her breathing intensified.
Lizzie’s body stilled, becoming a limp weight in my arms.
“You good?” I kept my voice confined to a gentle whisper.
“Isaac.” She looked to a spot only she could see and sniffled.
Her reaction let me know that she and Isaac had been close.
“He was my friend.” Her voice was barely audible. She stretched a hand out as if to touch the spot where Isaac had fallen.
My chin came to rest atop her head and I pulled her tighter. “I’m sorry, kid. I’m sorry, Lizzie.” It was the best I could do to comfort her. I didn’t know what else to say or do. Loss is never an easy thing. Adults have a hard enough time dealing with it. She was a child.
Pain is a miasma. It spreads and corrupts your thoughts and, eventually, your heart. I knew what Isaac’s death was doing to Lizzie...besides wracking her with heartache. She was wondering about her sister. If that shadow had destroyed Isaac’s ghost, what’s to say one of them hadn’t done that to her sister? I made it a point of stamping those thoughts out of her mind.
“She’s fine, Lizzie.” I gave her a quick squeeze. “Your sister’s fine and we’re going to get her back.” I turned her around in my hold, looking her dead in the eyes.
She nodded but didn’t seem convinced.
All my fingers save for one, curled into a fist. I extended my pinky toward her. “Pinky promise. I’ll get her back.” I smiled. She hooked her pinky around mine and gave me a weak smile back. Good enough for me. I rose from my crouch, hauling Lizzie with me.
“Charles, what just happened?”
From Ortiz’s perspective, what happened couldn’t have made much sense.
“One of those sha—”
“Monsters,” Lizzie interjected. Her tone left no room for argument as to what to call the shadow beings.
“Monsters,” I corrected. “One of those monsters attacked a ghost in our company. Isaac. He was Lizzie’s friend. After that.…” I shrugged and trailed off. “His fellow ghosts didn’t take it too well. They nixed the freak that did it.”
Ortiz moved beside me. “They listened to her.” She eyed Lizzie uncertainly.
My gaze drifted down to young Lizzie. She hadn’t heard what Ortiz said. She was back to being her withdrawn self. A hint of wariness hung in her eyes though.
“I suppose they did.” I gave Ortiz a level look.
I played the events back through my mind. They had listened to her. The ghosts had made no move against the shadow creature during the attack on Isaac. It was only when Lizzie screamed at them that they acted. The ghosts listened to Lizzie. I felt like I had taken another ice bath. I’d never heard of anyone being able to influence ghosts. I looked down at Lizzie again. Now I was the one with the wary look.
The hell is this little girl?
Whatever the answer was, it had to wait. More darkened shapes darted into view.
“Move!” I barked.
I grabbed Lizzie’s hand and broke into a sprint. Ortiz lagged a few paces behind. We crossed the hall when another wail rang out. Another ghost had fallen, though I was certain it wasn’t a one-sided fight. I saw what the ghosts could do in retaliation. I’m sure they were evening the odds.
I shot a look over my shoulder. “Give ‘em hell,” I murmured. I looked at Ortiz and Lizzie. “Keep going!”
We moved through another hall. There wasn’t a single dark mass in sight. I slowed my pace, motioning for Lizzie and Ortiz to stay where they were as I moved ahead. I lost all coherent thought when I peered into the next room. It was a strange version of the recreation room. My hands went numb as I stared at the scene. I managed to coax my right hand into beckoning Ortiz and Lizzie.
They stood at either side of me, gazing into the room with the same puzzled mask I wore. The rec room was empty, sort of. Katherine the nurse, Doctor Cartwright, and several patients I had seen earlier in the day were there. As we watched, the light-skinned member of the muscle-head brothers passed through the room. The problem was that they sure as hell weren’t in the Neravene. So what the hell were we seeing?
Grayscale.
That was the only way to describe them. Someone, or something, had removed all traces of color from their bodies and clothing. Every inch of them was comprised of morning fog in the shape of people. They were distorted, yet behaved exactly like they did on the other side—the normal side. Doctor Cartwright scrawled furiously on a clipboard. A pair of nurses walked by, chatting to one another, their voices unheard by us. An elderly man sat and rocked in a chair before the television. Katherine Robinson looked like she was speaking to thin air. She reached out to pat a spot only she could see.
“Uh,” Ortiz blinked several times. “What’s going on?”
“It’s how they see it,” Lizzie said. “It’s how the ghosts see us back home.”
Everything shifted when she said that. People morphed into something else entirely. Doctor Cartwright went from fog to a man of stone. He ceased all movement. His skin grayed, becoming gravel. He looked like a cold and uninviting person. Uncaring, distanced, stony and hard. That’s how the ghosts saw him.
Another nurse walked by. Her features twisted into golden light, radiating warmth. She looked like bottled sunlight.
The old man at the television changed too. His skin took on a plastic-like sheen. Water roiled inside the confines of the surface. He was a bag holding too much water. His outsides strained to keep themselves together as pressure built and he weakened. He was frail and falling apart.
Katherine turned to polished glass, gleaming in perfection. Until I looked closer. Millions of deep but minute cracks webbed through her body. One forceful tap and she’d shatter. She mouthed a single word in silence. A name. Gus. I filed it away for reference.
“Let’s keep moving.” I nudged Ortiz and Lizzie. They agreed silently.
We passed through the rec room. Our eyes were wide and alert. The second we made it out, the three of us breathed a sigh of relief. Even Lizzie had been overwhelmed. That was some creepy crap. And I know creepy.
I led the way in silence. It had nothing to do with the fear of attracting more shadows. My mind was growing numb from what I was seeing here. I had warned Ortiz and Lizzie about the dangers of the Neravene, but I was struggling myself. I slowed my breathing and clenched my fist several times. It helped to steady my heart. Everything I thought I knew was being rewritten.
Ghosts acting in new ways, listening to a little girl and tearing apart shadowy monsters. They had insight into the inner workings of staff member’s minds. I had a lot to learn if I wanted to make it out of this case alive. And I didn’t have long to learn it.
“What’s with this place?” Ortiz muttered under her breath.
“Like Lizzie said, it’s what they see.” I pointed to a space of air where I imagined a ghost could be occupying. “This bit of the Neravene is their take on the asylum. It’s the last home they knew and they’re clinging to it. The older and more warped they become, the more the asylum follows suit. Like I said earlier, most ghosts get their own piece to call home. With so many dying here it’s like they’ve co-opted the place and formed one big chunk. Every person who’s ever died here shares their experience with the others. It all gets twisted along with them. Countless ghosts—their views shaping this place.”
“They have that much effect on something like…” she trailed off as she eyed the walls around us.
“Yeah”—I followed her gaze—“they do. And they can affect more than that. They can affect our side.”
“Like the cold.” She nodded in understanding.
“A side effect of when they come through to our side. That’s how they feel—cold. It’s hard for them to see things as they are and not h
ow they remember them. People move on with life. They can’t. The ghosts feel cold, alone, and it spreads to their surroundings.” Just talking about it made me want to shiver. “It’s the one bit they can affect. It’s a part of them in a way. They’re spreading their feelings—” I cut myself off as something horrible occurred to me.
“What’s wrong?” Ortiz’s remarkable intuition went to work.
“This place isn’t just a mirror for what the ghosts see. It reflects their feelings. This part of the Neravene reacts to the feelings of those who inhabit it. That’s what we saw—back there with Doctor Cartwright and the others. It isn’t just about how the ghosts see them; it’s about how they feel about them too. Any presences in the place can affect it, somehow, for good or ill. Though, looking around, I’m gonna go with more ill than good.”
“Charles, aren’t we occupying this space too?”
Cold electricity went down my spine. I huffed in agitation. “Oh, fuck.” Ortiz gave me a reproachful look, her head tilting toward Lizzie. “Sorry kid. Best you plug your ears. There’s bound to be more cussing from me.”
“Hmm?” Her attention seemed focused on her own thoughts.
“Uh, exactly.” I shook my head. If she didn’t hear me swear I guess it was okay. I turned to Ortiz. “Yeah, we’ve got to be on guard with what we’re feeling. I don’t know how our feelings could affect this place. They could change things on a tangible level.”
Ortiz eyed me and raised an eyebrow. She mouthed the word, tangible. “Big word.”
I scowled. “Keep your feelings in check.” I turned to Lizzie and softened my voice. “Hey, kid, watch what you’re thinking and feeling, okay? This place can do horrible things with them. I think. Anyways, rein it in. Don’t think fearful thoughts.”
“Pink elephant much?” Ortiz’s tone could’ve dried paint.
Right, I effectively put the notion in their heads. Now it would be harder to avoid it. “Fine,” I growled. “Ortiz, think about pink fluffy teddy bears. You seem like the kind of gal to like those.” My quip earned me a heated stare. I turned away. “Lizzie, just…be you.”
She seemed like she was still in cloud city. “Okay.” She turned to watch the empty halls.
Got to love kids. So simple. Tell ‘em to do something, and they’ll do it...some of the time at least.
I motioned for Ortiz and Lizzie to follow me as we set off. The hardest part wasn’t moving through the place without attracting attention. It was keeping myself in check. I was out of my depth, surrounded by hostile paranormal creatures and probably running low on my deadline. Not a great series of circumstances for one’s mental state. The last thing I needed was some of my fears manifesting. Doing this job for as long as I have leaves a person with a handful of nightmares.
Another vision of black darted in and out of sight. An anguished howl echoed and everything fell silent again. That wasn’t frightening at all. My muscles changed their consistency to water.
“Breathe, man,” I muttered. I reminded myself of my obligation to bring Ortiz and Lizzie out of the Neravene whole and sane. I couldn’t do that if I was the first one to freak out. I tried to move my mind away from the shadows to something less spooky—like the posse of ghosts around us. “Lizzie, we still got a non-corporeal escort service?”
“Huh?”
“Uh, is there still a gang of really mean and tough ghosts ready to kick butt following us?”
“Oh, yes.” She bobbed her head and grinned before retreating to wherever she went in her head, humming all the while.
Good, good. So long as we had our invisible group of potentially dangerous ghosts around us, all was well….
Somebody panted. I turned to Ortiz and lost the words I was going to say. Beads of sweat matted her face.
“Ortiz, you okay?”
She tugged at her collar as if it was too tight. Ortiz swallowed several times and one of her hands drifted to her stomach.
“Fine.” Her voice rasped like dry, crumbled leather.
Droplets cascaded down her face. She looked like she’d run a marathon through the Sahara—without a coating of sunscreen. She was suffering from what looked like heat exhaustion. Not the thing I’d expect here. Hypothermia maybe, if the ghosts kept up the chill treatment. Heat exhaustion—no.
I grabbed Ortiz’s biceps as her balance wavered. They felt like stones left in the desert heat. “Ortiz, hey!” I shouted point blank, but she didn’t seem to hear me.
“So hot,” she murmured. A sleepy look filled her eyes. More of her weight fell on me; she was losing the ability to support herself.
“Hey, don’t faint.” I brought her down gently to rest on the floor. I fanned her with my hands. A part of me knew it wouldn’t do much good. That wasn’t the point though. If you can ever do something to help, no matter how trivial, you do it. The top of my hand brushed against her soft, sweat-stained face. I might as well have held it over an oven. The heat radiating from her wasn’t natural. It felt like she was going to combust from the inside out.
“Lizzie!” I screamed, snapping her out of her reverie.
She was beside us in an instant. Her features shifted, adopting the same worry on my face. “She’s hot.”
“I know.” My voice was weak. Slipping out of my shirt, I stretched it between my hands. I resisted the urge to wipe away the sweat drenching her body. I needed the sweat to help her. Moisture conducts heat away faster than air itself. It’s why we sweat in the first place. The shirt whipped as I fanned her body.
“Lizzie, isn’t there anything your ghost pals can do? Please!” I begged as my arms pumped. Molten rock coursed through my muscles from the effort. I willed away the fatigue and kept going. “Lizzie, tell them to make it cold. I don’t care. Ortiz can scream at me later for it. Do it.”
My theory was that the ghosts would be able to influence the Neravene much more than they could our world. It made sense. They were more connected to it than they were the other side. Just like any other paranormal creature, this was their domain and they held power here. If they could make it frigid in the real world, they could make it damn near arctic here.
I was right. Cold fog rolled in from nowhere, obscuring my sight. I didn’t care if there were any shadows waiting to sneak up on me. If they tried it, they could freeze their asses off with me. A blanket of gray-white hung around us. The floor iced over and Ortiz began to cool.
I sighed in relief.
I rocked Ortiz with the same care I’d handle a baby. “You okay?”
Her eyes fluttered as they refocused themselves. She groaned. “Where are we?”
Ooooh boy, how do you answer that one? “Hey, we’re in a part of the Neravene, which belongs to pissed off ghosts. We walked, we talked, and you burned up and fainted. It’s all good now.” Is that what you say?
I settled for the important part. “You fainted.” I bit my tongue to keep from adding, “Again.” It was hard concealing my identity from her. Mentioning that she had fainted in my presence before would be a slip up I couldn’t afford. So I kept the focus on her. “What happened?”
She shook her head, cradling it with one hand. “Fire.”
Chapter Fifteen
“Fire?” There wasn’t any fire from where I was kneeling. Quite the opposite. I glanced at the thick, icy fog that filled the hall. Something wasn’t right. Ortiz’s body had cooled, but not enough. She was somewhat coherent, but part of her was still lost somewhere. “Hey, what’s going on?”
Ignoring me, she craned her head to one of the open doors nearby. She was transfixed on something within the room. I followed her gaze but saw nothing. “Ortiz, what are you looking at?”
She muttered something in a voice too low for me to catch it all. I was able to make out a single word. “No.” The word rang with tones of denial.
With a burst of unexpected strength, she tore herself from my grasp. Her feet kicked against the floor as she moved away. Her body broke out into sweat again, despite the chilling fog. “We killed
it.”
“Killed what? Ortiz, you’re not making a lick of sense!” I slid my hand over hers, squeezing it as hard as I could without causing pain. Whatever she was going through, she wouldn’t be alone. “Tell me what you see!”
I got my answer. I wished I hadn’t. Heat pricked at me, something akin to a sauna. It escalated from there—fast. One second I was hot; the next, the room before us burst into flames. I had no idea where it came from. A place like this should not spontaneously combust.
They also shouldn’t be harboring eldritch creatures of fire. There may have been an inferno before us, but icicles pierced my gut. A figure I wasn’t aware of before made its presence horrifyingly clear. A petite woman with fiery locks of orange, red and yellow hues. Her eyes were pools of flames ridged with obsidian. Something cracked and I noticed a whip-like tail swaying. It was made of frickin’ fire. So was the rest of the creature.
An elemental. They were fire given form, with a demeanor to match. Ortiz and I had faced one six months ago. It wasn’t pretty. Our encounter resulted in the partial incineration of a five-star hotel. I say partial because technically some of a building was left standing. It took a lot of bullets and a Ford Bronco—long story—to finally take the creature down. Now one of them was standing yards away from us, whipping up a firestorm.
My luck blows more than a porn star making balloon animals.
Something tingled in my head, but I pushed it aside. I didn’t have time for it. If I didn’t figure out what the hell was going on, Ortiz and I were going to be charbroiled. I kept my hand over hers while we both freaked out. I chanced a look at Lizzie who somehow remained utterly composed. Her attention was down the hall, not on us or the fire. The tingle came back, refusing to be ignored.
Holy shit! I realized what was happening. The Neravene was playing on her fears—our fears. Elementals are creatures of fire; they wouldn’t be found in a place like this unless they were compelled to. Not to mention the fact that this was not their domain. You don’t barge into other creatures’ home in the Neravene. There’s so much subtle magic and more going on. It’s like fighting the home team on their turf, their advantage. Plus, there was the bit where an elemental couldn’t have wormed its way into where we were.