Wraith

by Shane Smithers

  Erebus laughed again. ‘Good old NIB, always thinking inside the box.’

  James shot Aureole a look. She’d said it had been stolen, from the beginning. She’d been right all along, but, from the expression on her face, being right didn’t make her happy.

  ‘Stop wasting time, Erebus! Just give me the SAFFIRE,’ growled Cirro, taking a step toward him.

  Erebus waggled a finger at him. ‘Uh-uh. If I give it to you, you’ll regret it.’

  ‘Not as much as you, if you do not hand it over,’ said Cirro, holding out his hand. ‘The SAFFIRE is unstable at low altitude and could explode at any time.’

  ‘You don’t expect me to believe that, do you? said Erebus.

  Cirro went to search him, but Erebus held up a hand and then reached into his trouser pocket and produced the necklace. It was a much brighter and greener than James remembered – not a good sign.

  Cirro reached around the back of his belt and retrieved a pair of handcuffs.

  ‘Cuffs, for me? Dear brother, you shouldn’t have,’ said Erebus.

  ‘Do not make this any harder than it has to be,’ said Cirro with all the authority of a primary agent.

  ‘Are you taking me back to Nebulosity?’ asked Erebus.

  ‘That is the idea,’ said Cirro. ‘It is about time you faced . . .’ But before he could finish, there were three loud bangs on the door and everyone jumped.

  ‘Open up! Police!’

  Cirro immediately took charge. ‘James, take Aureole and get out of here,’ he said. ‘I’ll meet you at the north end of the park.’

  ‘What are you going to do?’ asked Aureole, clutching at Cirro’s arm.

  There were more bangs at the door. The police were now attempting to break it down.

  Cirro put his hand over Aureole’s. ‘I will be all right, I have contacts. It is the two of you that I will not be able to explain. Now, get out of here.’.

  The urgency in Cirro’s voice roused James into action. He grabbed Aureole by the arm and dashed out of the kitchen, through the living room and out onto the small balcony. The sun had gone down several hours ago and the only light came from the streetlights below. ‘Come on, we don’t have much time,’ he said.

  The front door burst open and police rushed in with their handguns drawn. ‘Freeze or I’ll shoot,’ shouted an officer.

  Cirro and Erebus were wrestling on the floor in a shroud of fog. Flashes of fluoro yellow from Erebus’s jacket showed he was on top and hitting Cirro hard. But James couldn’t worry about that now. He had to get Aureole to safety. He wrapped his arms around her, leapt over the rail into the darkness. A moment later two shots rang out.

  SEVENTY

  A Park, Adelaide, South Australia

  James and Aureole were flying over the deserted park when they heard the shots.

  ‘Cirro!’ Aureole cried out.

  ‘Stop wriggling or I’ll drop you,’ pleaded James. His bruised ribs were aching, making it hard for him to concentrate on keeping airborne.

  ‘We have to go back,’ screamed Aureole. ‘Cirro could be hurt.’

  ‘There’s nothing we can do. Cirro knows how to look after himself.’

  Aureole wasn’t listening to him. She kept squirming, trying to break free. ‘But the shots . . . we have to go back,’ she said, her voice cracking.

  The north side of the park rushed up. James couldn’t control their landing and they crashed into a large hedge. Aureole picked herself up and started running back toward the apartment block a couple of hundred metres away.

  ‘Aureole, wait,’ yelled James, but she kept running. A sharp pain ripped into him; he clutched his side and gritted his teeth. Aureole was half-way across the unlit park. He took off again. ‘Don’t be silly, Aureole,’ he said as he landed, grabbing her by the arm and twisting her to face him.

  ‘I can’t just leave him there,’ said Aureole. She was breathing heavily. ‘We have to do something.’ Her eyes were pleading.

  ‘We can’t just go barging in there,’ said James. ‘Look at all the police.’ The apartment block was a hive of blue and white. To make matters worse, a large group of onlookers was gathering on the street to watch. ‘If they spot us . . .’

  ‘At least let’s take a closer look,’ said Aureole.

  James nodded. ‘All right, but nothing rash.’

  They made their way towards the ever-growing crowd and it wasn’t long before they heard a commotion inside the front entrance. Wilson and Collins emerged, hand-cuffed and flanked by enormous police officers.

  ‘Don’t let the ghosts get me,’ cried Wilson. He looked barely conscious as he and Collins were led to a waiting police wagon. He let out a moan. ‘What’s happening?’

  At first Collins gave no resistance. He walked to the back of the police van, but when he saw inside he refused to co-operate. It took four officers and a lot of pulling and pushing and twisting to force him in.

  When Wilson’s turn came, he became lucid, turned to the officer holding him and said with a gasp, ‘Collins is claustrophobic. You can’t put me in there with him.’ He dug his heels in, skidding and squirming against the officer. ‘No, no, no, you can’t,’ he shouted. ‘He’ll kill me.’ Five more officers rushed over, but Wilson managed to get one foot on either side of the door and pushed back against them, almost horizontal. He couldn’t hold on forever. His legs gave out and the officers shoved him in, slammed the door and locked it.

  Wilson’s face appeared, pressed against the back window. ‘You gotta let me out. Please, I’ll tell ya anything. I don’t want to diiieeee . . .’

  ‘We’re willing to take that risk,’ jeered an officer.

  ‘I heard that,’ said Wilson.

  The officer shrugged and looked from side to side, ‘Heard what?’

  ‘This is police brutality, that’s what this is. I want my lawyer!’ screamed Wilson. His breath fogged up the glass.

  ‘You’ll get a phone call when we’re down at the station.’ Wilson was starting to panic. ‘We didn’t mean to kill the boy,’ he blurted out.

  The officers, who had turned to leave, stopped. ‘What boy?’ they said together.

  ‘Goldie Lockes,’ cried Wilson. ‘The boy you found at Marino.’

  The officers looked at each other, puzzled. ‘We never found a boy at the bay, it was a fisherman,’ said one of them.

  ‘A fisherman?’

  ‘Yeah, a fisherman. He’d been swept off the rocks a week ago. Who’s this boy . . . this Goldie Lockes you’re talking about?’

  ‘Then . . .’ Wilson paused, his face lit up in the window and he started laughing. ‘We didn’t kill him, Collins, did you hear that? He’s still alive . . .’ The cogs in Wilson’s head = kept turning, and then a scowl appeared on his face. ‘That little mongrel made me think he was a ghost. I’ll kill him. If I ever get me hands on him, I’ll kill him!’

  *

  James and Aureole stood in the middle of the crowd, watching, until all the police had exited the apartment block, but there was no sign of Cirro or Erebus.

  ‘Do you think they shot them?’ whispered Aureole.

  ‘I don’t think so. There’s no ambulance,’ said James.

  ‘Where are they?’ said Aureole, just as a hand touched James’s shoulder.

  ‘I thought I told you two to wait at the north end of the park?’

  ‘Cirro!’ cried James and Aureole simultaneously. The crowd was starting to disperse.

  ‘We were worried,’ said Aureole. Relief washed over her face and she wrapped her arms around Cirro. When she pulled away, there was blood on the front of her jacket.

  ‘Cirro, you’ve been shot!’ said James.

  ‘It is only a flesh wound,’ said Cirro. He sounded tired.

  James eyed Cirro’s blood-soaked shirt. There was a lot of blood. It looked like more than just a flesh wound.

  ‘We need to get you to a hospital,’ said Aureole.

  ‘No, I will be fine,’ said Cirro. ‘Let us move away from here.’ H
e turned and led them further into the darkened park.

  ‘Where’s Erebus?’ asked James, glancing over his shoulder in the direction of the apartment building.

  ‘Unfortunately, he got away,’ said Cirro. He collapsed onto a park bench, lifted the side of his shirt. In the dim light James could see a deep gash where a bullet had grazed his ribs. A thin line of blood was still trickling from the wound.

  Aureole took off her jacket and rolled it up. Kneeling down, she pressed it firmly against Cirro’s side. ‘This should slow the bleeding,’ she said, her voice trembling.

  Cirro’s face was pale, but he said calmly, ‘I will be fine. I just need to rest for a few minutes and then I’ll go back to my hopper. There is a medi-kit inside.’ He took a sharp breath; speaking was painful. ‘Then I will go after Erebus. He still has the SAFFIRE.’ He looked up at James. ‘You will need to get Aureole out of here. Fly as far away as possible. I don’t know how much time the SAFFIRE has left.’

  ‘No, Cirro,’ said Aureole. She had tears in the corner of her eyes. ‘You aren’t strong enough. James and I will go after Erebus.’

  James looked at Cirro, pale and weak, slumped on the park bench, and Aureole, kneeling next to him, her hand covered in blood, holding the makeshift compression bandage and looking shaken. He knew what he needed to do. ‘No,’ he said in a firm voice. ‘Aureole, you take Cirro back to his hopper. I’ll go after Erebus.’

  ‘No, James,’ said Cirro and Aureole together.

  ‘Aureole, you said it yourself – Cirro’s not strong enough. He won’t make it back to the hopper by himself. He needs you, Aureole. Besides, I can catch up to Erebus quicker without you.’

  ‘I don’t want you to go,’ said Aureole, shaking her head.

  ‘It’s the only way,’ James replied. He turned to Cirro. ‘Where did Erebus go?’

  Cirro hesitated for a moment, then said, ‘He took off on a motorcycle, heading west.’

  James nodded and said, ‘I’ll meet you . . .’ He paused. ‘Where?’

  ‘North end of the park. My hopper is hidden in the brush.’ Cirro took a sharp breath and turned even whiter. He gave James a nod but said nothing more.

  Aureole pointed her finger and muttered, ‘West is that way.’

  James gave a smile, said ‘Thanks’, and then took a running leap into the air.

  His heart was pounding and he had no idea how he was going to get the SAFFIRE from Erebus, but he could figure that out when the time came. First, he had to find Erebus, and he was hoping that wouldn’t be too difficult.

  He stopped half a kilometre above the city, pulled out his sunglasses and flicked them to night vision, transforming the night landscape into day. Below him, the traffic was heavy in all directions. He hoped Erebus was somewhere in the middle of it all. Maybe he was wrong thinking he could find Erebus by himself. The city was vast.

  James spotted a motorcycle, raced after it, realised it wasn’t Erebus. He saw another, did the same thing, then a third. Precious minutes passed. A feeling of hopelessness wormed its way into his thoughts. How was he going to face Aureole if he didn’t return with the SAFFIRE? He didn’t want to let her down. Where are you Erebus?

  SEVENTY-ONE

  Adelaide Airspace, South Australia

  James decided to change tack. He flew towards the major highway leading out of town and noticed a single light darting erratically through the line of traffic, weaving this way and that. Then he saw the skull-and-crossbones – fluoro yellow stripes shining in the headlights of passing cars. ‘Erebus!’

  James flipped up his hood and put on a burst of speed. He couldn’t travel anywhere near the speed of a motorcycle at full revs, but the traffic was thick. James was gaining on him. And the faster James went, the more streamlined his clothing became. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, urging him on. Any pain was, for the moment, forgotten. He dipped down further, racing over cars and trucks, zipping under bridges and through several tunnels. He thought it unlikely anyone would notice him, dressed in dark clothing, and if they did, they’d probably mistake him for a giant bat. He hoped.

  The red taillight of Erebus’s Ducati 1098S motorbike continued to zigzag up ahead. James could see him, bent low over the handlebars, manoeuvring the bike through the traffic with expert precision. As Erebus leaned the bike, veering around a car, James thought he glimpsed a green glow coming from Erebus’s left-hand pocket.

  The SAFFIRE? But why was it glowing?

  The traffic grew heavy again, slowing. This was James’s chance. If he dived down, maybe he could grab the SAFFIRE from Erebus’s pocket and get away before Erebus knew what was happening. Just don’t touch the SAFFIRE itself, he thought, only the gold chain.

  James screwed his fists into balls and urged his body to go faster. He swooped in and landed on the back of the bike with a thud. So much for being subtle. He heard Erebus let out an expletive from inside his helmet as the motorcycle swerved radically to the left, nearly running off the road into a guard-rail, missing a lamp post by centimetres. Erebus struggled to keep the bike upright and James did his best to hang on. The bike swerved erratically, almost hitting the back of a Renault. Erebus swerved hard right and then left, managed to steer the bike between the cars.

  Having regained control, Erebus shot a glance over his shoulder. James couldn’t see Erebus’s face through the dark visor, but Erebus wouldn’t believe it was him on the back. They hurtled through the narrow space between the rows of traffic and Erebus gave it full throttle in an effort to dislodge James. The right-hand mirror exploded as it hit the side of a van attempting to merge. They roared through a red light, darting between the crossing cars. A speeding driver stood on his brakes, missing them by nano-seconds.

  Undeterred, James thrust his hand into Erebus’s motorcycle jacket pocket. As he did so, Erebus rammed his elbow into James’s ribcage. Burning pain seared through James’s torso. The motorcycle veered across two lanes and James, grasping at his side, nearly toppled off backwards. He latched onto Erebus’s collar, almost choking him, and pulled himself back up on to the bike.

  James blinked away the pain and lunged at Erebus’s pocket again. With more luck than skill, he seized the SAFFIRE and yanked it out by the chain. He went to take off, but Erebus clamped his hand around James’s arm. The bike shuddered violently. An oncoming semi-trailer blared its horn and James screwed his eyes shut, anticipating collision. Erebus let out several expletives, released James to wrestle the bike out of the path of the massive B-Double.

  In an instant, James was gone, flying as fast and as high as he could. By the time he glanced back, Erebus and the motorcycle had vanished.

  Aureole was pacing back and forth at the north end of the park muttering to herself. There was a familiar green hopper hidden in the bushes close by. James made an ungraceful landing next to her and she let out a scream. ‘James!’ She flung her arms around his neck. ‘You’re all right.’

  ‘Yeah, of course,’ replied James, hugging her back. ‘I got it. I got the SAFFIRE back.’ He pulled it out of his jacket and held it up for her to see. ‘Is Cirro okay?’

  ‘Yes, I think he’s going to be all right. The hopper’s life support system did a few scans. The bullet skimmed his ribcage, but didn’t break any bones. He lost a fair bit of blood, though. I’ve sprayed a synthetic skin over the wound and given him a painkiller. He’s resting in the hopper.’ James smiled. Aureole was sounding more like her old self.

  ‘I am fine,’ said Cirro, suddenly appearing. Colour still hadn’t returned to his face, but he was smiling and looked stronger.

  ‘I got the SAFFIRE back,’ repeated James.

  Cirro nodded. ‘I heard. You are a very brave young man.’

  James handed the SAFFIRE over. ‘Erebus got away,’ he said.

  ‘The SAFFIRE is the important thing,’ replied Cirro. He lifted it up by the gold chain and James eyed it warily. It was glowing a very beautiful turquoise and Cirro looked worried. He headed for the hopper. ‘It is ne
aring its blue stage. There is not much time.’

  ‘I’m coming with you,’ said Aureole, running after him.

  Cirro reached the hopper and pushed her back. ‘No, it is too dangerous.’ Aureole opened her mouth but he said, ‘No arguing. I will be fine.’ He slipped into the hopper, readied it for take-off, then tossed her a small object. ‘Take James back to Nebulosity.’

  Before Aureole could say another word, the hopper took off and blended into the night sky. ‘Good luck,’ she whispered, staring up into the blackness.

  James eyed the object in her hand. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘It’s a bio-GPS disc,’ she replied. ‘You place your thumb on it and it sends a tracking signal to the closest transport. This is how we’re going to get home.’

  SEVENTY-TWO

  Lyndoch, South Australia

  James flew Aureole across the city and headed out of town toward Lyndoch. They followed the orange lights of the highway for some time and then veered off over vineyards and empty paddocks until he spotted his grandmother’s house. He thought it best to say goodbye before they left. They landed a block away and made their way to her street. The road was empty except for one parked car two houses down.

  James knocked once and, to his surprise, Gran was at the door in an instant. ‘Quickly, come inside,’ she said in a hushed tone, ushering them in, closing the door behind them.

  ‘Hey, Gran,’ said James. He lowered his hood, knowing what was coming.

  ‘James, your face!’ said Gran.

  ‘It’s nothing. Just a couple of scratches,’ he replied. Gran eyed him unsurely for a second and then looked at Aureole. ‘Are you okay?’ Aureole gave a nod. ‘I’m fine.’

  ‘And your brother, Cirro?’ asked Gran.

  James and Aureole looked at Gran. ‘He’s okay,’ replied James. ‘How do you know him?’

  ‘He turned up here, yesterday, looking for you both,’ said Gran.

  ‘I guess he . . .’ began James.

  ‘Filled me in on everything,’ said Gran. She nodded. ‘Most of it.’ They were all still standing in the hallway and Gran motioned for them to move into the living room, but just before they went in, she said. ‘I haven’t told him much, so be careful what you say.’ Then she set off for the kitchen. ‘I’ll make a cup of tea.’