There were several fearful grumblings as Vincent mentioned Poe. One of the more vocal ones, whose aura rivaled Vincent’s protested, “Why are we going on this fool’s errand anyway? I’ve heard about the beast, his cult drags spirits into that graveyard and watch as he rips them to pieces! Even the Lord Justice was scared of him!”
Yeah, he was one of the reluctant converts from Taney’s cadre of supporters. “True, but Roger Taney should have spent more time being afraid of the Ferryman. We go because Michael Ross is our ally. Has he not, in the past few weeks, helped several of our brethren to cross onto the next?”
Several nodded their heads. A few of the weaker ones were crossed over at Vincent’s request to show that there was a benefit to signing on with the new regime, with the promise that eventually everyone who wanted to move on would be able to.
Neither Vincent’s inner circle nor I really wanted to talk about how two ghosts who were part of Taney’s old guard were forcibly crossed over; it involved being run through with an iron poker while being held down by the others.
War wasn’t pretty. Don’t let anyone ever tell you differently; the battles are brutal, and the mopping up can be just as bad, if not worse.
Vincent continued on. “We go because our ally needs our assistance. We go because the enemy resorts to kidnapping women and threatening to kill them. We go because free of the abomination that called himself ‘Lord Justice’, we can now act as honor and duty dictates! Most importantly, we go because it is the right thing to do! Every last one of us seeks redemption and atonement in some way, shape or form. Let us take our first step down this path as one! Let us assault the enemy as one and fight like men who would be heroes!”
The colonel saluted me amongst the cheers of his men. I smiled and nodded my thanks to him. No wonder there were several statues in his honor. Hell, after that speech, I was fired up about the prospect of facing death again! It reminded me of a few weeks ago when Rusty Fletcher and I caught that movie about the Spartans. Stupid infantry - I only hoped this wasn’t my final stand; Thermopylae was no better in my book than Pickett’s charge – the grunts were just as dead at the end of the operation.
We exited the train and raced towards the church, heedless of the driving rain on a night fit for neither the living nor the dead. I spotted several ghosts trailing us. They made no move to engage us, but then again, they made no effort to hide their presence either. Cassandra might not have known how we would be arriving, but William’s followers obviously knew their turf well enough.
I ran along the streets, pulling on my gloves, feeling the grit of the iron against my skin. Vincent had a phantom knife in his hand. It was the most he had been able to make so far. Had there been more time, I would have traveled to Wilkes-Barre and begged Eva to come help me.
Most ghosts couldn’t destroy one another. Vincent wasn’t just any ghost, though. With a weapon, he could injure and “kill” one. The rest of my comrades were just going there to brawl. There was a part of me already resigned to the fact that I’d have to do whatever it was I did to destroy Taney. On the train ride up, the Colonel revealed that it wasn’t demolitions that destroyed the museum in Fredrick, it was the energy released by my body. It was our one and only trump card. Our strike force knew enough to keep one eye on me and to flee if I started boiling off the ghostly powers.
We halted at the corner of Pace and Fayette. I needed to catch my breath and survey what was ahead. The burial grounds were less than a block away and I could barely make out Candy’s patrol car parked in front. Thunder rumbled in the sky; flashes of lightning momentarily brightened the night.
If nothing else, it was like a scene from an Edgar Allan Poe story. Somebody predicted my presence here, on this night. It made me wonder a bit about fate and destiny. From my backpack, I pulled out my pipe wrench, and then positioned a short iron poker as a backup weapon. I opened a small plastic can of Playdoh, mixed with iron filings, and scooped most of it into my free hand.
Maybe I could find a way to tap into the power that confined the beast. The hairs on the back of my neck stood up in spite of the rain. There was a tangible presence ahead of me; I’d felt something similar when Taney or Eva were standing nearby. William Poe was well over a hundred yards away. That didn’t do much to soothe my nerves.
“Are you ready, Michael?” Strong Vincent asked.
“No, but I don’t believe that the universe cares whether or not I’m ready.”
“Nonsense! You are a rare human; blessed or maybe cursed with a unique gift. If you do not matter, then I say that no one does.”
Vincent was wasted as a soldier; he should have been a motivational speaker.
My reply was quoted from another man who lost his life in Pennsylvania, only closer to my time than the Colonel’s.
“Let’s roll!”
Several ghosts eager for a fight charged out through the openings in the metal fence. It made me wonder how much the people that built this place had actually known. Vincent was on my left and Corporal Berry my right as the first group came towards us. I didn’t have any of Chuck’s pneumatic contraptions because they would have looked suspicious, traveling on the train. The poker had been gift wrapped and the wrench was on a tool belt.
Unlike the confined spaces of Taney’s museum, this area was fairly open. There was plenty of room for a fight. The first group headed straight for me. I clubbed the first one with the wrench, which was the sign for fights to break out all along the north side of the street. We weren’t as outnumbered as I feared, but I was still fighting two of them – ghosts who glowed as brightly as Vincent. One was armed with a club and the other wore an Orioles uniform, carrying a baseball bat.
Too bad I wasn’t a fan of the game; I might’ve known who he was. The blob of iron filings in my hand struck him in the chest and the Oriole collapsed to the ground. I blocked the club with my wrench and kicked the ballplayer in the head for good measure.
It worked before on Vincent, so I faked throwing an empty hand at the club wielder and sure enough he dodged right into a pipe wrench haymaker. I pounded him a second time and grabbed the club off the ground, delivering a blow to the base of my attacker’s skull, knowing that he’d feel that in the morning. I turned to the baseball player, only to see Vincent driving his knife into the ghost and tossing the bat to one of his men.
I threw him the club and then grabbed the soggy ball of iron-impregnated Playdoh off the sidewalk. Pouncing on one of the ghosts kicking Corporal Berry, I slapped it and my hand between his shoulder blades. He screamed like a little girl and stumbled down the street with the glob of material stuck into his back. One of the others bull rushed me and drove me into the brick wall. He held me there and delivered savage blows to my gut. I grabbed his head with my free hand, burning the ectoplasm while striking his back with the wrench.
He screamed in pain, but fought on as hands reached from behind me, through the brick wall and grabbed at me, forcing me to drop the wrench. My iron laced gloves scalded them and I pushed away from the wall. Grabbing the poker from the backpack, I ran it through the neck of the one still clinging to me.
“Die!” I yelled. He fell down, leaving me with only empty gloved hands.
Several more jumped through the wall of that building and attacked me. They were brawlers and lacked any training. I fought back with everything the late, departed Don Hodges taught me. I alternated between grabs and rapid blows, the same moves that my traitorous friend made me practice for hours on a Wing Chung dummy.
In short, I was kicking some serious ectoplasmic ass. Between the burning hands and the punches, in ten seconds three more ghosts were on the ground. They weren’t prepared for the likes of me!
I, on the other hand was worrying too much about the ghosts, and not worried enough about the Skinwalker. An intense bolt of lightning illuminated the street and I saw Candy, roughly ten feet away. I spun just in time to see the cruel smile on her face. She carried a taser in her hand.
It was t
he last thing I saw before my world became a blur.
My capture brought a swift end to the attack. The tide was turned so to speak. So it was that I and several others were dragged unceremoniously through the gate and carried past Poe’s monument and into the back by the Poe family plot.
The taser hadn’t fully taken me out, but I was only slowly regaining control of my muscles. They dropped me, stripped off my backpack, and plopped me next to the sopping wet, very terrified Jenny Goodman.
She proceeded to smother me in a hug. “Mike! You shouldn’t have come! Thank God you’re here!” Even at a time like that, she didn’t make a lot of sense. I slid my jacket off and draped it protectively around her. I got the feeling that whatever happened next, I wouldn’t need the jacket. Propped up on one arm, I leaned against the marker indicating where Edgar had been originally buried and stared at that which was once William Henry Leonard Poe.
He was taller than I was, but thinner and, aside from his blazing aura, wasn’t much to look at. His face was very pale; he had a full head of hair and a penetrating gaze. Were he still human and he was looking to start trouble, I’d mop the floor with him without a second thought.
With a voice that somehow growled over the thunder he addressed his groupies.
“Well, well, well, the night has finally come that the illustrious Michael Ross graces us with his presence and my confinement reaches its end!”
I looked over on the ground and saw Martin Berry leaking vapors from his injuries. He grimaced at me and forced a weary smile.
It was a mistake on our part. Poe saw our exchange and sauntered over to Berry. “Michael, I’m so disappointed in you befriending the dead like that! You were put on this Earth to destroy them! It is your destiny in life!”
Like a rag doll he snatched the Union Corporal from the ground and held him by his neck in the air. It reminded me of Darth Vader strangling a rebel officer in the first Star Wars movie. Poor Martin, the guy with a fascination for maps, thrashed like a hanged man as even more vapors began billowing out of him.
“Do you not see? Can you not feel it in your soul? The dead are abominations that must all be destroyed!”
Seconds later there was nothing left of Corporal Martin beyond a faint mist left around his hand. Poe had a maniacal expression on his face.
I used the last weapon left in my arsenal – sarcasm. “In case you haven’t looked at yourself in a mirror lately, Billy, you’re the abomination.”
He spun towards me and I saw only a hint of sanity, coupled with the kind of look you see on those specials where they interview serial killers. They say prison changes a man. In William’s case, I’m guessing he deserved it.
“What better way to destroy them? My brother Edgar didn’t understand. He sat at my bedside and told me I should cross over and that he’d help. He was a fool and I showed him the error of his ways, but he became jealous. He knew that I was a better Ferryman in death than he was in life. My brother was nothing without me! He did not truly believe in our cause! He was not willing to sacrifice as I had! He was unworthy!”
Obviously sanity in the afterlife had its limits, and this guy was far beyond them. I pulled my aching body up. “So what’s it going to be William? How am I supposed to free you from this cage?”
Poe looked back at me, as if seeing me for the first time.
“It’s really simple, Ross, I’m going to possess you and walk right out of here. When my traitor of a brother could not destroy me, he bound me here, using our blood to hold me in one place. You share our blood, so I thank you in advance for opening up the cage, but you also are a vessel strong enough to carry me out of this foul prison. The next Great Cleansing is about to begin!”
Okay, so he was a bit full of himself, but the more he talked, the more time I had to recover from getting tasered. “Still, I sent my loyal followers, hoping that Porter could lead me to the one that could free me and ultimately he did. So now you are here, just as Virginia predicted you would be. She had a gift as well.”
That actually told me something. Poe’s cousin and wife might still be out and about as a ghost. “Is she still around?”
There was a moment of clarity flashing through his malevolent eyes, “I do not know where Virginia is. Once I am free, perhaps I will seek her out and discover what other predictions she has for me.”
“So, all you want from me is a ride out of the graveyard? What happens next? We shake hands and part ways?”
William scowled at me, “You are a crude, insignificant gnat. I made the error of leaving Edgar in a position where he could betray the cause. I will not make that error again!”
“Too bad, I guess I won’t be inviting you to poker night William.” Standing up straight, I flexed my fingers. The gloves were still on my hands and I had half a container of iron impregnated Playdoh in my pocket.
Candy/Cassandra raised the taser a second time, but William waved her away. “The boy wants to test his mettle against me. I welcome the chAllange. Let us see what this gnat is capable of.”
William once was a rough and tumble merchant seaman. I was a former US Army ground pounder and general troublemaker. He closed with me quickly and I delivered a couple of quick strikes and threw him through the side of a nearby mausoleum style vault.
He emerged from the other side laughing and rubbing his face where I’d caught him. Gazing at Cassandra he said, “You were right about his martial training, Lady Von Eckels. Were I a lesser spirit, I might actually be scared.” Turning towards me, his gaze became a glare, “Fortunately my little Ferrygnat, I am so very much more than that. If that is the best you can do, this will not take very long.”
He used a more cautious approach, but still moved quickly. I blocked his first punch – absorbing the stinging punishment on my forearm. We both punched each other. Mine probably stung him. His sent me staggering ten feet backwards. Holy shit, he was strong! Poe waved his hands in the air like some pro wrestler exhorting cheers from his faithful. Using the delay to get my wind back, I pulled the plastic container out and got the rest of the Playdoh into my hand.
“Look everyone! Our Ferrygnat has tricks of his own! He is so very clever!” Poe thrust his hands out and I felt a tangible push, throwing me off balance.
“Do you not see how I am toying with you? You only touch me when I allow it.”
His next “push” threw me against a few of his cheering section. They caught me and jeered. I stomped on one’s instep and punched the other one.
“Yes, yes, show us what you can do against my minions! It will make my complete victory that much more impressive.”
I spun away from them and stalked back towards William. “You talk too much, Billy. My guess is that everyone comes here to visit Edgar and talk about his influence and genius. Do you like hearing what a great man your brother was? They moved his remains to the front, so they could pay proper tribute to him. What does the world know of you? Nothing!”
Oh that got under his skin, “Liar! The unwashed masses are not worthy to learn of my greatness.” He thrust his hands out to push me again, but I sidestepped, catching only a slight shove from his power.
I continued goading him. “You’re barely a footnote in history, William Poe. Even to the ghosts I have met, you are merely ‘the Beast of Baltimore,’ the beast chained by the great Edgar Allan Poe; practically no one knows your name.”
“They will know me soon enough, worm!” He charged and I felt tightness in my chest; the first telltale signs that the berserker heat was building up inside my body. Even though I knew what it could mean, I welcomed it. William was stuck in here – there’s nowhere to run, Billy-boy.
Lightning flashed again and the rain picked up as we clashed. I’d be lying if I said I was winning, I wasn’t. I was dealing out some damage, but it wasn’t doing a damn thing to slow him down! His punches, on the other hand, made the worst Don Hodges ever did to me feel like a love tap.
Our hands locked and he forced me to my knees. I pulled a
nd spun, using his momentum against him. How well could the bastard wrestle? The heat continued to build. I felt him trying to wedge himself inside of me and my arms shook with the effort of keeping him off and out. Poe seemingly ignored the iron – I knew it was scalding him, but he was long past caring.
Time dribbled on and our struggle continued. At some point, William sensed what I was doing. “No! No! You will not cleanse me! You are not powerful enough and I will not give you the chance!”
My arms were forced further apart. Pain surged and I was certain one of my shoulders was now dislocated. I screamed and William used that opening in my defense to possess me.
I didn’t fight him. Instead, I continued to build the heat inside of me, even going so far as to try to tap his energy to feed it. I couldn’t get him any closer than he was now – it was twisted, but I had him right where I wanted him.
I heard my voice cried out! “You fool! Stop what you are doing!”
Jenny shouted, “Mike! You’re glowing!”
A look of sudden recognition lit Cassandra’s eyes and she stepped out of Candy’s body, which immediately collapsed. The incorporeal Cassandra Von Eckels was nothing short of beautiful, with long flowing hair and a face that looked like it belonged on magazine covers. Part of me relished her terror as she sprinted away; the part that was William held my hand out and I could hear my voice begging Cassie for help.
I guess Billy hadn’t learned lesson number one – never, ever trust a Skinwalker – loyalty is not a coin they recognize.
Still others reached out and supported me. I felt the stinging pain as arms helped drag me towards the exit. Edgar’s tomb and the front gate grew closer as the pressure inside of me built.
“Faster you fools! I need to get off the property and out of this body!”
They pushed and pulled me along and I felt like I was about to burst. We passed his brother’s monument and staggered out the front gate.
Poe immediately tried to leave my body, but I held on, grabbing his essence, keeping him half in and frozen in midair. I croaked, “You’re staying with me, William. Your freedom’s only going to last a second or two.”
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