Demons Are a Ghoul's Best Friend

by Victoria Laurie

  Steven pointed to the other classroom. “Shall we?”

  I set my shoulders and moved across the hallway to the closed door. Peering through the glass I saw a dark shadow disappear through the opposite wall, and the creepy feeling I’d had that made the hair on my neck and arms stand up vanished with him. I turned the handle on the door and pulled it open anyway and came up short. “Whoa,” I said as I stepped into the classroom.

  “Whoa,” repeated Steven as he came in right behind me.

  We were reacting to the perfect pyramid made up of every small desk in the room going up to the ceiling. “That is wild!” I said, crossing over to the desks.

  Steven gasped. “Be careful, M.J.! The hatchet man could tip those over on you!”

  “He’s gone,” I said calmly.

  “Where?”

  “Through there.” And I pointed to the wall that faced the outside.

  “Should we go after him?”

  I thought about it for a moment before deciding. “Nah. He’s long gone by now. My feeling is that he’s got a pretty wide range, and he probably haunts this entire campus.”

  Steven glanced out at the parking lot, and I saw his eyes go wide with alarm. “Uh-oh,” he said.

  I turned and looked myself, and that was when I noticed Gilley being tugged back and forth on the sliding door of the van. Something had hold of either him or the van’s door and was throwing him around like a puppet. “Oh, shit!” I yelled, and flew out of the classroom with Steven right behind me. We ran down the hall as fast as we could and bolted out the double doors. By this time Gilley was lying flat on the pavement, and my heart went straight to my throat. “Gilley!” I screamed, but he didn’t move.

  We got to him a moment later, and Steven knelt down by his head, placing his fingertips on Gil’s neck for a pulse. I saw him breathe a sigh of relief and check carefully around Gilley’s head for any signs of trauma. Finally he looked at me and said, “He’s fainted.”

  I let go of the breath I’d been holding and pulled Gil close to me. “Oh, man! Gil, I’m so sorry!” I said to him. “I had no idea this thing was so strong and so mean!”

  “Mwaha…?” Gil said.

  Steven was at Gil’s feet, propping them up on the side of the van. “I think he’s coming around,” he said. “It might be a good idea to get him back to Karen’s place.”

  “Right,” I said, helping Steven pick Gilley up and lay him gently on the seat in the back of the van.

  “Wha’ happen…?” Gil asked me in a woozy voice.

  “Shhhh,” I said gently. “I’m taking you back to rest.”

  “That thing!” Gilley said, his voice suddenly stronger.

  “It’s out there!”

  “No, Gil,” I said. “It’s gone away for the moment. You’re okay, I promise.” Looking at Steven I said, “Stay with him. I’m going back for our equipment and to lock up.”

  “I should go with you,” he said.

  I shook my head. “No, Steven. Please stay here with Gil. I promise I’ll be right back, okay?”

  I didn’t wait for Steven to answer me, but hurried out of the van and back to the building, anger fueling my every step. “Okay, Jack,” I said as I opened the front door. “You may have won this round, pal, but just so you know? This means war!”

  Nothing answered my challenge, but something told me Jack had heard me. I moved back into the classroom and gathered up everyone’s duffel bag. I was about to head back outside when something told me to check out the other classroom again.

  I did, and my breath caught in my throat. The pyramid was gone, and all the desks had been arranged again in their neat rows. I shook my head. “This may be the mack-daddy of ghostbusts,” I muttered, and hurried back to the van.

  Chapter 4

  We drove Gilley back to the ski lodge and helped him over to the couch. He’d said very little on the ride to base camp, but then, he’d become fully conscious only as we got close. He asked me what happened, and I’d explained that he’d had a nasty encounter with our resident poltergeist. He seemed to accept this rather well, or so I thought, until he sat down on the couch and said, “I’m quitting the business.”

  “You can’t quit,” I said, throwing an afghan over his legs while Steven went back out to the van to get our equipment.

  “Yes, I can, M.J. I’m out.”

  “Gil,” I said patiently, “we can work through this.”

  “Really?” he snapped, rubbing the back of his neck as if it ached. “And how do you propose I work through the fact that I’ve been physically attacked by the walking dead twice in two months?” Gilley had been pushed down the stairs by a confused and angry spirit at Steven’s hunting lodge one month earlier.

  I sighed and moved off the couch into the kitchen, which was directly across from the living room and allowed us to continue our conversation. While I filled the teakettle with water I said, “Gil, I understand where you’re coming from, but we are partners in this, and you made a commitment to me to see this thing through way back when.”

  “Yes, M.J.!” Gil said, his voice rising with frustration. “I did agree to that, but I certainly didn’t agree to needing disability insurance every time we go on a job!”

  “Twice in eight months isn’t all bad, Gil,” I said, setting three cups on the counter.

  “Oh? And how many times have you been attacked?”

  I looked him smartly in the eye and started ticking off the physical encounters I’d had. “Let’s start with Millie Kerkowski’s place—you remember, the one with the teenager who liked to set things on fire? I’ve got a lovely little scar on my leg from where my pants started smoking. Then there was the Robinowitz job. Remember the patriot who liked to throw stones?” I asked, lifting up my bangs and pointing to a small scar I’d gotten when I’d been pelted with a rock. “Or how about the Hudsons? Remember the ghost horse in their barn that liked to kick open stall doors? That bruise went all the way to the bone, Gil!”

  “What is all this yelling?” Steven asked as he came in loaded down with duffel bags and heard our argument.

  “Gilley wants to quit just because he has a little boo-boo,” I snapped.

  “You can’t quit,” Steven said.

  I nodded my head vigorously. “See? I’m not the only one who thinks you’re being a big baby.”

  “Oh, I do not think he is being a baby,” said Steven. “If I were wearing his shoelaces, I would want to quit too.”

  “How is this helping?” I asked.

  “I am just stating the truth of it,” Steven replied.

  “See?” Gil sneered at me. “Steven understands my pain!”

  “Which is exactly why you must get back on the donkey again,” said Steven.

  “Horse,” I said.

  “Where?” Steven asked, looking out the windows. “I do not see a horse.”

  I put a tired hand up to my forehead and took several deep breaths before I said, “Steven’s right, Gil. If you let this one incident define you as a quitter, then that’s what you’ll always be. A quitter.”

  The teakettle started whistling, and I hurried to pour us some tea. “Do you think I want to quit?” Gilley asked me sharply. “M.J., it’s not that I want to leave this job. I’m just finding it more and more dangerous.”

  “Dangerous or scary?” I asked bluntly, handing him a steaming cup of tea.

  It was Gil’s turn to sigh heavily. “I’m not like you,” he admitted. “This stuff creeps me out, and every time I set foot out of the van I become the target.”

  “So, from now on, stay in the van,” I suggested.

  “I was halfway in the van when that…that…thing pulled me out and started swinging me around!”

  “What if I made it safe for you?” I asked, getting an idea as my eye lit on Gilley’s leather jacket. “What if I guarantee that no ghost will ever attack you again?”

  “How can you do that?”

  I set down my cup of tea and picked up the keys to the van. “I’l
l be back in a while. I’ve got an errand.”

  I got in the van and pointed it toward town. While I was driving my cell rang. “Hey, girlfriend,” I said, noting the caller ID.

  “Did the dean let you guys in?” Teeko asked.

  “He did,” I said. “Thanks for getting us on campus.”

  “How’s it going so far?”

  “It’s tough,” I admitted. “This Hatchet Jack guy is one nasty entity.”

  “What happened?” she asked, probably sensing that we’d already had a bad encounter.

  “The thing attacked Gilley.”

  “Is he all right?”

  “Physically, yes. Mentally, well, what can I say? He’s always had the nerves of a frightened five-year-old girl.”

  “Are you on campus now?”

  “No,” I said. “We had to take Gil back to your place. I’m going to get some supplies to make him a nice suit of armor so that we can continue the job.”

  “Suit of armor?”

  “An idea I had. Say, how’s Paris?”

  “It was rainy, same as New England, so we’re in Italy now.”

  My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Sounds like you’re getting the four-star treatment.”

  “When in Rome,” Karen quipped.

  “Should we be expecting you back this way anytime soon?”

  “Probably not. John was able to literally buy you five days, and then he needs you to clear out so his guys can get to work.”

  “I know,” I said. “The dean has also made it perfectly clear that the clock is ticking.”

  “Now that you’ve encountered Jack, do you think that’ll give you enough time?”

  “I hope so,” I said, trying not to sound too pessimistic.

  “I’ve got to try to figure out why this guy is here, I mean, what’s with him and that building, anyway?”

  “Can’t you just find his hole or whatever it is that you call that thing and put those spikes in?”

  “You mean his portal,” I said. “Trust me, that’s going to be my main mission. But it could be anywhere, Teek, and that school is a big place. Plus, if it’s located in one of the other buildings I won’t be able to get to it, because the dean has put everything but the old elementary wing off-limits to us.”

  “Well,” she said, “do what you can, M.J.”

  “I will,” I assured her. “I promise.”

  I got back to the ski lodge about two hours later, having taken longer than I expected to find what I’d need. Gilley was still on the couch, playing cards with Steven. “We were wondering what happened to you,” Gil said.

  I reached into one of the bags I was carrying and pulled out several thin black squares. “It took me a little extra time, but it should be worth it,” I said.

  “What are those?” Steven asked, pointing to the black squares in my hand.

  “Magnets.”

  Gilley’s eyebrows arched when I pulled out the sweatshirt and long-sleeved shirt I had purchased. “I don’t get it,” he said.

  “You will in a little while,” I said. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be in my room for a bit. You two keep on with your game.”

  I headed into the bedroom and got to work with a glue gun. About an hour and a half later, just as I began to smell Gilley’s efforts in the kitchen, I came out holding my creation. “Ta-da!” I said, holding up the garment I’d been working on.

  Gilley turned from the stove and glanced at the sweatshirt I was holding up. “Cute,” he said. “I like the color.”

  “I’m glad you do, my friend,” I said, coming over to him and laying it across his shoulders. “Because this is your new suit of armor.”

  “It’s heavy,” he said, feeling the weight of it. “What’s in it?”

  “Magnets,” I said.

  “Oh, I see,” said Steven, who was watching us from the couch. “So Gilley can wear this and the ghost won’t want to attack him.”

  Gil set the spoon he was stirring his spaghetti sauce with down on the counter and pulled the sweatshirt off his back. “How did you make this?” he asked me.

  “I glued a bunch of those flat magnets I showed you earlier to a long-sleeved shirt, then sewed that to the inside of the sweatshirt. Wear that, Gil, and no ghost will come near you.”

  “How does this work again?” asked Steven, who had gotten up to come over and feel the sweatshirt himself.

  “Magnets play with the electromagnetic frequency that ghosts like to hover around. You put enough magnets in a room and a ghost won’t want to go anywhere near it. That’s why kitchens aren’t usually haunted.”

  “Kitchens?” Steven asked me with a puzzled expression.

  Gilley turned and pointed to the O’Neals’ refrigerator.

  “Magnets on the fridge,” he explained. Then he looked at me critically. “Are you sure I’ll be safe in this thing?”

  I nodded vigorously. “Absolutely!” I said. “But you’ll have to stay in the van, because with that thing on you’re sure to chase Hatchet Jack away, and I want to figure out why he’s haunting the place and find his portal, not send him into hiding until we leave.”

  Gilley took a deep breath, like he was weighing his options carefully. “Okay, M.J., if you really need me on this bust, I suppose I can wear this thing and monitor from the van.”

  “You are the best, Gil,” I said happily, and gave him a hug. “I promise, as long as you’re wearing that thing you’ll be the last person Jack wants to screw with.”

  Steven looked a bit concerned. “Perhaps I should also wear some of those,” he said.

  “Oh, no,” I said with a laugh. “You, my friend, need to be completely open and vulnerable when we go back there.”

  “Why is this?” he asked me.

  “Someone’s got to act as bait,” I said.

  “I am thinking that I am not liking this bust very much,” Steven said glumly.

  “Relax,” I said. “If it gets too dicey, I’ll send you to the van with Gilley, okay?”

  Steven didn’t look convinced, but there was no way I was going to let him off easy. I had realized on the way into town that this job might be just a bit over my head, and I was going to need all the help I could get.

  After dinner we packed the van again, making sure that Gilley had a direct link from the monitors in the van to all of our gadgets. “I love this new stuff,” he confessed as we checked the equipment against what he could read on the three monitors he had set up. “This one records the feed from the night-vision video cameras. This one records the feed from the thermal imager. And this one records electrostatic readings from the two meters you are both carrying. I might even be able to tell you when there’s a ghost around before you know it yourself.”

  “Glad you decided to rejoin the party,” I said, and gave him a pat on his bulky back. “How uncomfortable is this thing, by the way?” I asked, looking at the sweatshirt he was wearing.

  “It’s not too bad,” he said. “A little warm, but I can always crack the windows.”

  “Are we ready to bust?” Steven said, coming out with the last of our duffel bags.

  “We’re ready,” I said, trying not to sound too excited. I love ghostbusting at night, and tonight promised to be extra good, with the damp chill in the air and a full moon. I could just feel the electrostatic energy charged with anticipation.

  We drove back to the school and left Gilley in the van. “You going to be okay?” I asked him one last time.

  “I will be as long as you promise nothing freaky is going to happen to me.”

  “It won’t,” I said, putting on the new headset that linked me to Gilley. “Sound check.”

  He placed a finger to his ear and said, “I can hear you loud and clear.”

  “Awesome,” I said. “Me too.” With that I closed the door to the van and hurried after Steven, who had already made it to the door of the elementary wing. He unlocked the door and held it open for me as I went inside, clicking on the flashlight I held in my hand.


  “Remind me again why we don’t just flip on the lights?” he whispered.

  “Because surges in electricity can throw off our meters, and it makes it much harder to see ghosts. It’s always better to do the baseline test and the investigation in total darkness.”

  “How will we be able to see?” Steven asked, squinting into the darkness of the hallway.

  “Let your eyes adjust, Steven. There’s a break in the clouds and a full moon out tonight, which should also help. If you get frustrated, switch on your flashlight.”

  I set my duffel down on the floor and pulled out our equipment, handing him one electrostatic meter, one thermal imager, and a night-vision camera. “I do not have enough hands,” he said, trying to juggle all the gadgets.

  “Click the electrostatic meter on and put that in your back pocket,” I advised. “Hold the camera with one hand and the thermal imager with the other.”

  “How will I write down the measurements for the baseline?” he asked.

  “I’ll handle that,” I said, retrieving a clipboard from the duffel, along with my own set of gadgets. “You just worry about pointing things in the right direction when I give you the cue.”

  “Where do we start?” he said.

  “First we need to get some dimensions,” I said. “While you and Gil were cleaning up the dinner dishes, I went ahead and sketched a rough outline of the building from what I remembered this afternoon. It looks like this hallway has six classrooms off it. Which makes sense, I guess, for grades one through six.”

  “I am thinking you are going to want to measure the hallway and the classrooms?”

  “Yep,” I said, handing him the end of the tape measure.

  “Hold this,” I said, and moved down the hall. We got the length and width of the hallway and I recorded it on my diagram. “Okay, now let’s hit the rooms.”

  We headed into the first of the classrooms, which happened to be the one where the desks had previously been arranged in a pyramid, and I made Steven hold the tape while I stretched it along the wall. In my ear I could hear Gilley singing a little ABBA. “How you doin’ out there, Mamma Mia?” I asked him.

  “Bored, bored, bored,” he sang to the tune of “Dancing Queen.”