Ghost Mortem (Bordertown Chronicle Book 1)

by Gavin Masters

  “We didn’t do anything,” said Vikki. “It’s Nefarious Darius.”

  “The serial killer? He’s the Oversoul now?” Rachel asked.

  “The sheriff was his accomplice all along,” Doc said. “He’s a ghost now too. But don’t worry about that. Apparently Gavin killed him.”

  “Oy, gavalt,” Rachel said. “Who are they going to promote next? Adolf Hitler?”

  “Tell me about it,” said Doc.

  “So how do we deal with the Oversoul, Doc?” asked Vikki. “None of the weapons you gave us seem to work on him. So how do we stop him?”

  “You don’t,” he said. “You can’t. It’s unheard of.”

  “Why not?” I said. “I mean, he’s just another supernatural being, right?”

  “Just another supernatural being? Oy vey, no! Boychik, the Oversoul is the highest ranking of the supernatural beings, ordained, supposedly by God himself. But to tell you the truth, I don’t know. Maybe God only knows.”

  “How can you not know?” I asked.

  “Boychik, this may come as a surprise to you, but I don’t know every last thing about the supernatural world. I’m just a man, boychik. Even I have limitations. This isn’t an exact science after all. But the Oversoul, boychik? That’s a divine being, ordained by God. Our technology will do bupkis next to that.”

  “Well then how the hell do we kill him?”

  “There’s no killing, boychik. When you’re the Oversoul, you’re the Oversoul. That’s part of the beauty of being promoted to Oversoul.”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “Doc, are you telling me that you actually believe God would turn a fucking psycho like Nefarious Darius into an Oversoul?”

  He stopped for a moment.

  “Well no, boychik, when you put it like that…”

  “I know, right?” I said. “Sounds meshuganah, doesn’t it?”

  We all stood or sat—or in Rachel’s case, hovered—in silence for a few moments. We couldn’t hear the Oversoul outside anymore.

  “Is he still out there?” Vikki asked.

  Doc pushed a couple of boxes aside, and pulled down a periscope—which came down from the ceiling—and peered into it.

  “Oh yes. He’s still out there all right.”

  “What’s he doing?” Vikki asked.

  “Reaping neighborhood ghosts it looks like.”

  “What?” said Vikki. “Let me see that.”

  Vikki pushed Doc out of the way and peered through the periscope.

  “Jesus Christ. Doc, we need to get out there and stop him before he devours the whole town.”

  “Let me see,” I said.

  Vikki moved and let me look through the periscope.

  “What’s he doing now?” said the Doc.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “He’s glowing. I think he’s…”

  I stared on in horror as I saw numerous small, wraithlike beings begin to emerge from the Oversoul's chest amulet. Each soul seemed tethered to him somehow, almost like puppets on a string, except the strings looked like beams of white light.

  “Doc, I think he’s making babies,” I said.

  “What? Let me see that?” he said, pushing past me again.

  “Oy vey…”

  “Doc, how do we stop him?” I asked.

  “We can’t stop him,” he said.

  “Doc, ‘can’t’ isn’t an option. Didn’t you say there wasn’t a problem you couldn’t solve?”

  “I know. I know I said that, but…the Oversoul? I don’t know, boychik, I just…”

  Doc stopped for a moment, and stared off into the distance. He was on the verge of something; that much I could tell.

  “What?” I asked.

  “A corridor of light,” he said.

  “Good, yes,” I said.

  I stopped. I wasn't actually sure where he was going with this.

  “What about them?” I asked.

  “Well, maybe if we can get a spirit to open one, we can send him back to the spirit world through that.”

  “What if that doesn’t work?” I said.

  “No, Gavin, Doc’s right,” said Vikki. “A corridor of light should work. It’ll pull any kind of spirit into the spirit world. Even an Oversoul. The last Oversoul who retired…he just kind of opened one up on his own. The whole town saw it. We made a big retirement ceremony out of it and everything. It was actually really sad.”

  “Well…what caused his corridor to open though?” I asked.

  “He opened it on his own. When spirits are ready to go back to the spirit world, that’s what happens.”

  “Yeah, but…what if this particular spirit doesn’t feel so inclined to move on?”

  “Then we don’t give him a choice,” said Doc. “We lure him into one.”

  “So where do we find one of these?”

  “Someone has to die,” he said.

  “Wait a second, Doc, are you high? Are you saying we have to kill someone to kill this thing?”

  “No, no, no. Boychik, if you kill someone they don’t get a corridor, remember? They have to be at peace when they die. That’s why none of his victims have been getting away. They died alone, and afraid, and in pain, and before their time. Normally, that would mean they’d stay behind to haunt the Earth in hope of bringing their killer to justice, but…”

  “But the Oversoul has a means of trapping those souls and storing them for later use, doesn’t he?” I said.

  “What?” said Doc. “No. No, that shouldn't be…he's supposed to send them to the netherworld.”

  “Okay, but he hasn't been doing that, Doc. He's been keeping them.”

  “Keeping them? Keeping them how, boychik?”

  “In his amulet.”

  “What amulet?”

  “The one around his neck, Doc! Have you…have you never seen the Oversoul before?”

  Doc shrugged. “I'm a busy man, boychik. I tend not to have time to go loiter in the courtrooms. And I figure if you've seen one Oversoul, you've seen them all.”

  “Right,” I said. “Well…whatever. Danko has an amulet he wears around his neck and he's been trapping souls in it.”

  Doc looked through the periscope again, squinted, and then looked away in realization.

  “My god,” he said.

  “What?” I said.

  “I don't believe it. It's a phylactery.”

  “What the fuck is a phylactery, Doc?”

  “That amulet around his neck, boychik. It’s a metal amulet with a sacred scroll inside, with words of power written in an ancient language. That’s his phylactery. I don’t know how many spirits it allows him to hold, but supposedly, it’s a supernatural cage that can house a million souls. Maybe more.”

  “Well…so…is that something an Oversoul is supposed to have?”

  “Not normally, no,” said the Doc. “No, normally that would mean he's a…he's a…a lich.”

  “What the fuck is a lich?” I asked

  “Well, reader's digest version? An undead necromancer returned from the netherworld.”

  “Right,” I said. “Sorry I asked. Wait a second. Doc, are you saying he’s potentially carrying a million souls in that sucker? His baby-factory?”

  “His phylactery,” Doc corrected. “Yes.”

  “Doc,” said Vikki, picking up on my concern. “How many ghosts can your barrier hold off?”

  “Oh, probably several hundred. Why?”

  No one answered. But then, it was clear from the change on Doc's face that he knew exactly what we were getting at.

  “Oy vey, meshuganah, schmutz,” Doc muttered, shutting his eyes and beating his forehead with the palm of his hand.

  Glowing carbuncular forms began to bulge from the walls. The walls themselves didn’t seem to warp, but bubbles of ectoplasm seemed to be pushing at the shields and bleeding in through the walls.

  “What are we going to do, Doc?” said Vikki, backing away from the swelling, ectoplasm-bleeding walls.

  “I don’t know,” Doc said.
r />   “Well, how long will the barrier hold?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe a few more minutes. Maybe only a few more seconds.”

  Vikki looked at the walls as they bulged. I continued to huddle in the corner with Raven. Larry and his undead wife stood close to one another. We all helplessly awaited the inevitable.

  Vikki un-holstered her pistol.

  What does she expect to be able to do with that now?

  Vikki pressed the nozzle of her gun to her own temple.

  “Whoa, Vikki, what the hell are you doing?” I shouted.

  I let go of Raven, sprang to my feet and ran towards Vikki.

  “They’re going to get through soon,” said Vikki. “Like Doc says, this is the only way. When he breaks through, and when he dives for us, just get behind me. Rachel, you should probably go downstairs so you don’t get pulled in too.”

  “No, Vikki,” I said. “This…this isn’t right. There has to be another way.”

  “There is no other way, Gavin,” Vikki said, eerily calm. She closed her eyes. “This is my choice. I am at peace.”

  “N-no,” I sobbed. “V-Vikki, please. Don’t do this!”

  “I can’t protect the town, Gavin. That’s what I swore an oath to do when I took this job. So did your father. We swore an oath to do whatever it takes to protect the people of Bordertown from the evil creatures and demons that prowl and hunt the innocent. To stop the real monsters of the world. And I don’t think it gets much worse than a serial killer who came back as the Oversoul.”

  “But you can’t,” I pleaded.

  “But I have to, Gavin. I don’t know what else to do.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Vikki,” said Doc. “I’m old. I’ve at least had a full life. Let me do it.”

  “The hell you will,” said Rachel. “Over my dead body you will.”

  “You can’t, Doc,” said Vikki. “The town needs you. It needs you a lot more than the town needs me.”

  “I need you!” I sobbed.

  Vikki's resolve wavered. She too started to cry. But she didn’t lower her gun.

  The thrashing of ectoplasm from the outside grew more intense. More violent.

  “I’m sorry, Gavin,” Vikki said. “I wish things had turned out differently. Maybe in another life…maybe things could have worked out between us. I don’t know. But wishing and hoping…that’s just not enough right now. But Gavin…thank you. For everything.”

  “Don’t!” I shouted. “Vikki, you can’t!”

  “I have to, Gavin. I'm sorry.”

  “No, please,” I cried.

  I moved in towards her. I wanted to move slowly. I was terrified she’d just pull the trigger, and then…then she’d be gone. And I’d already lost enough today. I couldn’t lose my father and Vikki in one day.

  Gently as I could, I pulled Vikki's hand away from her temple, and then pulled her into an embrace.

  For a few tender moments, we sobbed into one another’s shoulders.

  “Larry,” said Rachel. “For the love of god, let me do it.”

  “But,” sniffled Vikki. “I thought you missed your corridor of light to stay here with Doc.”

  “What, are you kidding? The Light of the Netherworld has been pulling at my skirt for thirty years. It’s the field Larry put around this house that keeps me here.”

  “That’s why you never go outside,” I said, as I realized it.

  “No, Rachel,” said Doc. “I forbid it.”

  “Forbid it? Forbid what? Larry, when that field comes down, my corridor’s going to appear again anyway, like it or not. Little Joshua’s too.”

  “But you can’t,” said Doc, looking stunned. “I’m not…I’m just not ready.”

  “Ready or not, Larry, we all have to go sometime.”

  “Rachel…” he said, seeming at a loss for words.

  “Larry,” she said, with sympathy in her voice. “Larry, Larry. Oh, my Larry. We’ve had thirty extra years. That’s way more than a lot of people in our situation get. I got my corridor thirty years ago, Larry. But I loved you, so I stayed. And I don’t regret it, because look, Larry. Now I have a chance to do some good in this world. Little Joshua too. Look at him, Larry. It could be the single greatest thing our little Joshua ever did.”

  “I’m not ready, Rachel.”

  “I know, bubbeleh, I know.”

  Then, the shields collapsed, and all proverbial hell broke loose.

  The first wraithlike shape flew straight through the wall and into a pile of boxes. A second and third swirled around us. They quickly started to force their way through in droves, tethered by beams of light to their master behind them. The Oversoul himself looked like some kind of undead chariot rider, being pulled along by a pack of wraiths, and holding his scythe aloft in the air.

  “Good-bye, Larry,” said Rachel.

  “Rachel, no,” cried Larry.

  Rachel raised an arm to the ceiling. A cylindrical beam of light shot down through it, right by Rachel.

  “Oy,” Rachel shouted. “Big mister reaper man. You want souls? Come here, we got souls.”

  The lich snickered and stood motionless, seeming to evaluate the situation, tilting his faceless hood to one side.

  “What did you think was going to happen?” said the lich. “Do you seriously think I’m stupid enough to go near that corridor? So you could pull me in?”

  “No,” Rachel replied.

  Without warning, Rachel charged at the lich.

  “Mind the scythe,” said Vikki. “Don’t let it touch you.”

  The lich swung his scythe through the air at Rachel.

  Rachel, even though she was encumbered with a baby, seemed to effortlessly shift sideways out of the way.

  Rachel was much older than the lich was, I realized. Even if the lich had been afforded considerably more supernatural power, she had the advantage of age and experience. Rachel effortlessly dodged his attacks. She elongated her shape, and swirled around him, coiling around him like a serpent, wrapping around and around again, binding his arms tightly. Once she had the lich constricted, she pulled him slowly but steadily toward the corridor.

  “No!” the lich howled.

  “Oh yes,” Rachel taunted.

  She continued haul him ever closer, in toward the corridor of light.

  Then the movement abruptly stopped, and the lich began to laugh.

  “Oh you think this is funny, do you? I bet you won’t be laughing when I bring your worthless tuchas before god.”

  The other wraithlike minions swirled around him like a stream of bats flying through the walls of a cave. They began to take thousands of tiny bites out of Rachel.

  Rachel began to shriek. She lost her grip, and the Oversoul flew free.

  “Rachel, no,” Doc shouted.

  In one swift moment, the lich took several swipes at Rachel with his scythe.

  Rachel, and her baby Joshua, fell to pieces to the ground. Joshua started to shriek. Rachel began to wail. Larry fell to his knees.

  “No!” he cried.

  The lich put one hand on his phylactery and extended the other palm. He let out a gut-wrenching, maniacal laugh. The pieces of Rachel and little baby Joshua flew up into the air and circled around his open palm. They orbited around and around him, until they were all within his palm. The lich closed his palm, squeezed hard, and then Rachel and baby Joshua were gone.

  Then, just like that, the corridor of light was snuffed out. Like the flame of a candle in a torrential downpour.

  “No!” Doc continued to sob. “Not my Rachel! Not my little Joshua too!”

  “Don’t worry, old man,” said the lich. “They’re not gone. In fact, here. Let me show them to you again.”

  The lich hovered and moved his hand round and round on his phylactery, and out flew two more wraithlike beings. One of them wailed like a baby. The other spoke in Rachel’s subdued voice.

  “Run, Larry. Run. It’s so dark in here now. And I don't…I don't have control anymore…”


  The lich looked my way, back and forth between me, Raven and Vikki. “Perhaps you’d like to see Jack again too.”

  The lich swirled his hand around his phylactery again, and out flew another wraith to do his bidding. It swirled around him much the same way the rest did, and spoke in a hoarse voice.

  “Run, Gavin. Run, Raven. Run…I can’t…control it. Run. It’s so…awful in here. I can’t…I don’t want this to happen to you too. Run…”

  Neither Raven nor I could move. We exchanged a teary-eyed look, and then simply gazed back in terror.

  “You monster!” Vikki shouted, and held her gun to her temple again.

  “Go ahead,” the lich laughed. “Throw your life away.”

  “Don’t!” I said. “Vikki don’t. Please.”

  “I don’t know how else to protect you guys.”

  “Vikki, he’ll just absorb you,” I shouted.

  Vikki began to sob. She lowered her gun.

  “That’s right,” said the lich. “Just give up. You have no chance.”

  Vikki stopped sobbing, shot the lich a hateful look, and with renewed resolve, raised the pistol and fired her gun again and again at the lich’s phylactery. She screamed and fired her gun until it clicked empty.

  This time, I don’t know if she managed to hit it at all. The door behind him, however, was riddled with bullet holes.

  “I really hate it when you do that,” said the lich.

  The lich hovered towards us.

  The three of us—Raven, Vikki and I—cowered in the corner, awaiting our end as the seemingly unstoppable entity floated towards us. We had nowhere to go now, in the cluttered space, not compared to Darius, anyway, who seemed able to move about with perfect ease. He floated towards us at a frightening speed.

  More time, my mind screamed. I want more time! But there was no more time. You can't outrun the reaper forever.

  “I love you both,” I said.

  I took Raven and Vikki each in one arm, and held them close.

  The lich closed in. He hoisted the scythe above his head.

  And then the scythe descended.

  Except it didn’t. I opened my eyes to look.

  Why weren’t we spirits yet?

  My sister’s ghost arm was holding away the scythe, just above our heads. I exchanged a glance with Raven, who looked just as surprised as I was at this new development.

  The lich growled and pushed harder against my sister’s ghost arm, which looked like it was going to give way.