Thinking of it reminded her of how the man had been waiting for her at the bottom of the ladder, staring right up her tarp dress as she climbed down. She hadn’t understood what he did at the time, or why he’d been smiling at her.
She leaned to the side and threw up a little.
If that kid is a doll, there’s a ghost possessing her. It. Ugh. Whatever.
The distant pwoosh and sucking noise of the surface hatch opening echoed out of the corridor.
Kirsten blinked. The doll went to the surface?
A few minutes later, the thump and hiss of the hatch sealing broke the silence. Soon, the soft sticky noise of the girl’s bare feet peeling up off the plastisteel ground came from the hallway. Kirsten sat as still as she could make herself be. The same nine-year-old entered the chamber, carrying a white box almost big enough for her to curl up in, a Speedy-Nom logo on the side.
Dolls don’t need to order a week’s worth of food.
Kirsten tried unsuccessfully to peek into the girl’s head with Telepathy again. Confident she looked at a doll and not a living girl, she got ready to move. The only reason a robotic child would get food is to bring it to her owner. An astral presence within the fake girl meant one thing—this doll had to belong to her suspect. At least, nothing else made sense. The ghosts who looked after her years ago never once ordered her food from above. For a ghost to possess a doll and use it to pick up a delivery implied the spirit interacted with someone capable of placing the order. People who lived in the Beneath would sooner try to eat a NetMini than use it to order food.
It had to be him.
Ten seconds after the doll disappeared down the ladder, Kirsten climbed out of her hiding place, trying not to make too much noise. Fair bet, the ghost ‘piloting’ the doll would assume her a sleeping off-gridder. Her suspect likely operated under the belief no one in the world would ever be able to detect him using ghosts as weapons. The rarity of astrals plus the general disbelief among the public in spirits would no doubt give him a total sense of being untouchable. Hiding down here kept him away from Division 0—or so he thought. While it stopped him from being casually discovered and approached, it wouldn’t protect him from her.
She peered over the edge, watching the faux child descend to the ground, step off the ladder, and walk away across the old parking lot in a creepily adult manner, devoid of playfulness or hesitation. The instant the doll had her back turned, Kirsten lowered herself through the hole and made her way to the ground.
Two ruined cars sat in an area large enough for a thousand. To the left, the remnants of a huge grocery store gradually collapsed in on itself. Considering the age of everything down here, most of it appeared in remarkably good shape. The modern, elevated city protected structures in the Beneath from the ravages of wind and weather, turning it into the world’s largest indoor museum of the past. Open areas near the city’s western edge by the ocean as well as north and south ends suffered the most decay, long ago having decomposed into fields of rubble. A giant wall blocked off the eastern border of the city from the Badlands, leaving much of the old construction intact.
Or as intact as almost three centuries of total neglect could leave a place.
Kirsten reactivated Darksight so she could see, then followed the ersatz child out of the parking lot to a six-lane paved road, going past various old shopping centers and stores. The sight of such massive—but short—buildings baffled Kirsten. Nothing over two stories tall in sight. Granted, before the Corporate War, the entire nation hadn’t crammed itself into the coastal areas. In a time before the Badlands existed, people could spread out. It didn’t matter if one hardware store took up almost as much space as a city block and only had one story.
The girl walked past all the stores, following the old highway out of the commercial district to a field of rubble and dirt where a long-ago explosion had levelled most of the buildings. Undeterred, the android child carried the package across a dirt field, heading toward an interstate overpass a little more than a hundred meters from the highway she’d been following.
Electric lights shone within a walled area beneath the overpass. It looked as though someone—hopefully her suspect—had established something of a stronghold here. She didn’t see anyone moving around, nor any obvious defenses. A good, tough wall would be more than adequate to hold off the usual sort of dangers lurking in the Beneath. Automated sentry turrets or bots would be overkill.
Light would attract interest, especially Discarded, known for stealing anything they could carry from electronics to scrap metal to junk. She figured the guy had to have some defenses beyond a wall. Briefly, she considered going for backup, but few cops—even within Division 0—would be willing to come down here. Most believed the wild stories about mutants and horrible monsters down here. Much of it came from ghosts not wanting to be disturbed mixing into the folklore of the Badlands. Some people spoke about a demonic entity ruling over the desolation out there. Few claimed to take the idea seriously, but no one really had a good explanation for why no serious attempt to retake the center of the continent had ever happened or why the exploratory attempts all failed disastrously.
Down here, her suspect wouldn’t have any reason to hesitate before killing a cop. If she went in, she’d have to be prepared to handle it all herself. This, of course, meant shooting him if need be. The man had, after all, been responsible for the death of four police officers, Elan Mendoza, two construction workers, plus anyone else he’d attacked she didn’t know about. A rogue astral sending ghosts out to kill people could have been going on for years undetected.
She wouldn’t go in there intending to kill him, but if he forced her to, so be it.
Kirsten beaconed for Dorian as the fake child disappeared into a doorway in the barrier below the overpass.
I really shouldn’t be completely reckless and do this alone.
30
A Couple of Friends
Dorian appeared on the road to her left, running at the speed of a fast-forwarded holovid.
She breathed a sigh of relief, overjoyed to see he hadn’t stumbled into the guy and ended up under control. When he came to a stop beside her, she drew the E-90. “Think I found him.”
“Impressed. Seems I went the wrong way.”
“Not totally confident. Going off a hunch here.”
“Why this place?”
Kirsten gestured the E-90 toward the overpass. “WellTech doll went by, possessed by a ghost—I think. She picked up a box of food from a delivery bot at street level. Followed her back here. Ghosts don’t eat, and the locals down here don’t know about delivery bots. Half of them think they’re stuck on a giant spaceship after the Earth exploded.”
Dorian chuckled. “Reasonable theory worth checking out.”
“It’s a stupid story. We’re not on a spaceship.”
“I meant your hunch the guy is here.” He gestured at the ‘fortress.’
“Yeah. I know. Teasing you. Here we go.”
Kirsten trusted the darkness to hide her approach, keeping her gaze down so her glowing white eyes didn’t appear too obvious to someone far away. She stepped off the road into the dirt field, navigating chunks of concrete, metal scraps, and smashed appliances. Subconsciously, she gravitated toward large dense objects, the ones useful as cover if someone started shooting at her. Her heart raced in anticipation. At any second, she expected to have the Monwyn theme song shatter the relative quiet. If Evan called, she’d dive for cover before trying to answer.
“Suri,” whispered Kirsten. “Ring silent, send it to the earbud.”
“Okay,” chirped a voice in her ear. “But you know I have no signal down here.”
She swallowed saliva. Evan couldn’t call her now. Her stomach in knots, she forced herself to continue, trusting he’d have warned her going down here would be deadly when he called last time. He’d only worried about the hatch exploding. A rat or something small and furry darted out of the debris on her right. She dove away from it, hit
ting the ground behind a crushed car.
“Are you okay?” Dorian blinked at her. “Last I checked, rats haven’t figured out how to use firearms.”
“On edge.”
“I noticed.”
“We’re offline down here. Ev can’t call me.”
“You did fine before you had him to warn you. Trust your instincts. You shouldn’t get complacent and think you’re going to be untouchable as long as he doesn’t have a panic attack.”
“I know. I know.” Grumbling, she got back up and continued.
When she’d made it a little past halfway across the field, a strong paranormal presence welled up in front of her. She risked looking up, exposing her glowing eyes to anyone who might be watching her from the little fortress beneath the overpass.
Six ghosts stared at her. Three men in heavy tan coveralls, likely killed by accidents during the construction of the city overhead, two men wearing prewar hoodies and jeans, and a skinny man sporting two black metal cyberarms and a partially exploded head stood in a line in front of her as if to block her way forward.
“Leave him alone,” said a muscular construction worker wearing a blue syn-wool hat.
The taller of the men in hoodies waved her off. “Look, we don’t want no trouble wit’ you. We all know who ya is. Anyone else, we’d give a good damn reason to stay away.”
“We do?” asked the exploded-head guy. When he looked to his right at the others, he revealed the hollowness of his skull, as though a bomb inside his brain blew everything out the back left side. More than likely, he’d been killed by extreme voltage on the uplink cable… black ICE. “Who is this?”
Kirsten winced.
“Just a lost little girl who doesn’t belong here,” replied Blue Hat.
“She’s the one who dwells between worlds.” A short, stocky construction worker leaned back as if afraid of her.
Kirsten walked right up to them. “I’m not halfway dead. What I am is here to stop a man who is abusing his abilities to make slaves out of spirits.”
“We have an arrangement with him,” said Exploded Head. “And part of the arrangement includes keeping people out he don’t wanna see. Which is everyone who ain’t dead.”
She gawked at him. “This man is controlling spirits against their will, using them to kill, kidnap, steal…”
“Yeah, so?” asked Hoodie Two. “Ain’t no skin off our ass. He does shit for us if we need.”
“Wait, you six are willingly assisting this man?” asked Dorian. “Not under control?”
“Shit, yo.” Hoodie One laughed. “Do we look controlled? Holmes takes care of our peeps up top, those of us what have peeps up top.”
“You’re worried about baby chickens?” Kirsten blinked.
The construction workers and Exploded Head laughed.
“Marcus, no one uses the term ‘peeps’ anymore,” said Blue Hat.
“Unless they’re talking about marshmallows.” Dorian smiled. “There’s no reason this has to become unpleasant. Please stand aside.”
Both ghosts wearing hoodies gestured at him while chuckling.
“Get a load of this guy,” whispered Hoodie Two. “He ain’t even fifty yet. Talkin’ shit like he’d do something about it.”
Kirsten fidgeted. The men in hoodies had to be close to 400 years old as spirits, having lived here prior to the Corporate War. The construction workers could be anywhere from 300 to 200 years old. Exploded Head seemed to be the youngest based on his cybernetic arms; their appearance didn’t look out of date.
Still, she didn’t like the idea of getting violent with five ghosts as old as Theodore at the same time. While they’d be marginally less of a threat to her than fighting five living men at once, a five-on-one fight never went well for the one—unless they happened to be a Division 9 doll operative fighting normal people.
These spirits are awfully casual about this guy enslaving other spirits and committing crimes. Good chance they’re not terribly nice people.
“What is this guy doing for you that you’re standing here protecting a man who could mind-control you if he wanted?”
“Revenge,” said Exploded Head, grinning. “Killing the bastards responsible for boiling my brain, and as many other idiots in the company as he can.”
“Making life difficult for General Fab,” said Blue Hat. “Fuckin’ company blamed me for falling to my death. Didn’t pay out on the policy.”
“Tossin’ credits at my peep—mean family up top. Takin’ care of anyone givin’ ’em problems,” said Hoodie Two.
“You’re like over 400 years old.” Kirsten stared at him in disbelief. “You have family up top?”
The guy grinned. “Distant family, but they still blood. Gotta do right by ’em.”
So much for offering to help instead. No way am I going to kill people or steal for these spirits. She tapped her foot. Talking her way past them wouldn’t work. Fighting didn’t seem like a wonderful idea. Even if a good shot with the lash scared one off, this place had thousands of random sharp objects they could drag her over to and hang her on. She didn’t relish the idea of spending the rest of eternity dangling as a corpse from a length of exposed rebar.
I wonder… don’t want to destroy them, but these guys seem kinda sinister.
Kirsten stared into space, trying to beckon Harbingers. For some reason, they couldn’t or didn’t attack old spirits until they’d been weakened somehow. But… as her old friend Ritchie proved, ghosts with dark enough souls had an irrational fear of Harbingers. Even if they couldn’t lay a single shadowy claw on them, their mere presence would create panic.
If you can hear me somehow, I could use a little help here. This man is going to keep killing and hurting people if I can’t get to him. Any chance a couple of you could show up and maybe scare these spirits out of my way?
“C’mon, kid. You got outta here once already.” Blue Hat pointed up. “Go back where ya belong.”
“I can’t do that.” Kirsten locked stares with him and put her E-90 away. “This man killed four cops, and a bunch of other people.”
“Hah!” Exploded-Head laughed. “Only four? Shame.”
Kirsten summoned the lash. “I’m going to ask you nicely one more time. Get out of my way.”
31
As Usual, A Complete Mess
The six ghosts leaned back in response to the energy whip.
Dorian once compared it to being worse than the way a living person felt having a laser sword waved in their face. Not only did it give off a painful amount of heat to ghosts, even the newest spirit registered a sense of dread the instant they saw it, knowing full well it could annihilate them.
“Aww, man.” The stocky construction worker grumbled. “Look, kid. We really don’t want to hurt you. All of us know ya from your last time down here. Well, all except for Soft Boiled over there.”
Exploded Head gave him the finger.
“I’m here to protect spirits, not harm you.” She tried to step forward, but Blue Hat got in her way. “You’re helping a man who hurts ghosts as much as the living.”
“So?” asked Exploded Head. “Hey, why you guys getting all soft on this kid? She’s a cop.”
“Cadet?” asked Hoodie Two. “What are you, girl, fifteen?”
“Nah, she’s gotta be in her twenties by now.” Blue Hat rubbed his chin. “Less my sense of time is crappin’ out.”
A sense of foreboding welled up behind her.
Kirsten smiled. Thank you.
“You guys are pussies.” Exploded Head lunged forward, thrusting his hand into her chest, grabbing her heart.
Kirsten snapped the lash upward while jumping back—three icy points scratched at her heart as his hand slid out of her. The energy whip caught him in the groin, slicing upward all the way to the top of his head. For an instant, two severed halves of spirit gawked at her in stunned silence. She staggered away from him, grabbing the cold spot on her chest. Both halves of Exploded Head crashed together as he let off a wai
l of pain.
The other spirits seemed conflicted, close to jumping on her, but hesitating.
Pain in Kirsten’s chest resolved, seeming more a product of her fear the ghost might’ve tampered with her heart rhythm than actual tampering. Snarling, she snapped the lash at him again, nailing him in the back as he tried futilely to jump aside. Howling, Exploded Head fell to all fours, writhing in agony.
“Whoa,” said Dorian.
“I didn’t hit him that hard.”
“Not what I meant.” He pointed behind himself.
Kirsten looked back.
A mass of Harbingers flowed across the open field toward her like a crashing ocean wave of infinite darkness. She counted at least a dozen pairs of sparkling silver eyes. The instant she processed the sight, she knew they had a particular interest in Exploded Head. Kirsten spun back to face the ghosts, concentrating on the dead hacker’s essence. He didn’t feel too weakened yet.
“Aww shit, girl,” said Hoodie One. “What the fuck you do that for?”
Before she could offer up an answer, the spirits ran away from the approaching wall of Harbingers. Exploded Head scrambled upright into a run. Kirsten sprinted after him, taking advantage of her long reach via a wide horizontal swipe. The lash scored across his shoulders, swatting him sideways into a roll.
His essence changed, drained past a teeter point by the third hit. One more would obliterate him.
Kirsten stopped chasing him and lowered her arm.
The Harbingers drifted past her, an icy wind whipping at her hair. Though their presence still brought on a powerful sense of dread, she respected them. Roughly half chased Exploded Head into the ruins, the rest peeling off one by one after the others.
Dorian shivered like someone dumped cold water over him. “Well, I’m awake. You have to expect our guy sensed this.”
The Shadow Fixer Page 40
