by Jim Johnson
Her lips moved, and while I couldn’t hear her words, the ‘thank you’ was easy enough to figure out.
I led Kareena toward the conduit and guided her into the Holding, lighting her way like a shining beacon of peace and hope.
Chapter 60
MISTER FARRAN SETTLED INTO HIS BED, working at a bit of food between his teeth with a plastic yellow sword toothpick. She had included the sword picks in the lemon frosted cupcakes she’d brought him—an even dozen so that he could share them with the remaining residents and staff members of the nursing home.
He turned toward her and smiled. He gestured with the little sword, making a figure-eight in the air. “You’re welcome here any time, you know. With treats like that...”
Miss Chin settled back onto the wheeled stool that she’d fished out of the low desk set to one side of the room. “Is it because you are happy with my company, or my cupcakes?”
“More your company than the cupcakes, though I have to admit that your baking is way better than anything they ever give us here.” He glanced at the closed door of his room and gestured with the sword-pick. “They don’t bake their own stuff, of course. They have a catering company provide all the food.”
Miss Chin nodded, but remained silent, content to listen to the man ramble on.
He poked at his gum line with the pick again, then folded the piece of plastic into his hand and rested it on his chest, above the blue blanket draped over his body.
“Awful nice of you to visit. My family doesn’t come by nearly as often as I’d like, though my grandchildren have gotten better at it lately. I guess they worry about me.”
Miss Chin smiled. “I expect Rachel may come to visit slightly more often.”
He nodded, and his smile added a new series of peaks and valleys to the striations on his aged face. “I guess so. Given what’s happened here lately, I’m kinda worried for myself as well.”
Miss Chin inclined her head. “How do you feel about what transpired here?”
Mister Farran lifted a hand, then let it fall. “I mean, what can I say? I’m old enough that I’ve said good-bye to a lot of friends, and the older I get and the longer I live, the more I seem to say good-bye. The folks here who have died over the past two weeks...”
He paused and stared at the closed door again, then toward the windows off to the side, and he coughed. Tiny dots of tears formed at his eyes. Miss Chin looked on him with a surge of compassion in her heart and soul.
And yet, the Veil had to be protected.
He lifted a hand again as if to ward away the tears and the feelings. “Well, some of them were friends and some were new acquaintances…and some I hadn’t even gotten a chance to know yet.” He stared at the window for a couple long breaths, then glanced at her with a brave smile that pushed away the tears. “Too bad they couldn’t stick around. They would have loved your cupcakes.”
She offered a smile, because there were no words that could take away his pain. But there was something she could, and would, do. It was necessary.
He sighed, then thumbed away a tear and cleared his throat with a cough and a snort. “Still, I’m not entirely comfortable with the Branchwood director’s statement about what happened—about what caused their deaths.”
Miss Chin perked up an eyebrow. “What do you think she should have said?”
He stared at his hands. “Ah, I don’t know. I’m just a tired old man with flights of fancy and a creative mind.” He glanced at her. “I used to write, you know. Little stories and poems. Never got any of them published—never even tried. But this...” He produced the little sword and waved it around as if to encompass the whole of Branchwood. “This could make for a pretty interesting story, if the right lawyers wanted to listen.”
Miss Chin nodded slowly. “I don’t disagree. In fact, if you and the other patients were to investigate further, who knows what you might discover.”
He raised both bushy white eyebrows. “Exactly. Those of us left here have some means, and we could probably make a case, with some work.”
She inched her stool closer toward him. “If only you could remember the details.” She reached out and shifted the etheric threads connecting her to him ever so slightly. He met her eyes and smiled, then his mouth split open in a wide yawn.
“Hmm, yeah. Good point. A lot happened. Hard to remember everything.” He let out another mighty yawn that seemed to surprise him.
With a deft push off, Miss Chin sent herself and her stool over to the door and touched the lock with a quick burst of etheric energy, securing it. She then pushed off again so that she rolled back to the side of his bed.
He settled his head into his pillow, eyelids drooping heavily. “You’ll have to forgive me, Miss Chin, but I’m feeling right worn out. Not sure what’s come over me.” The last few words came out in a sleepy mumble.
She waved away the concern, working quickly to weave the threads she had taken hold of, the pattern changing form within her inner Eye. “Not to worry.” She rested her hand against her chest. “I’m no spring chicken myself. I, for one, appreciate the value of a good night’s sleep to help refresh my memory.”
He blinked his eyes. A look of confusion passed over his face. He shook it off. “Mmm, all right.” His eyes closed.
She shushed his comment away, and steadily tightened her weave around his mind. Once she was confident he had fallen into a deep, untroubled sleep, she made herself comfortable next to his bed, lowered her head, and delved into the deep work.
She had more than a dozen minds to cleanse tonight in addition to the one already under her hands. Good thing she brought plenty of cupcakes and patience.
Author’s Note
Thanks so much for picking up this book and trying it out. If you enjoyed reading this story, please consider leaving an honest review and rating on Amazon.com. Until a better system comes along, word-of-mouth and a body of reviews remain the most effective means of discoverability for books and writers.
Please join my mailing list at www.scribeineti.com/newsletter to stay up-to-date on new releases, free fiction, and other goodies.
I love to hear from my readers, so feel free to drop me a note at [email protected] and let me know how you’re doing. Alternatively, if you’d like to send me a postcard of the cool places you’ve been or where you live, send them along to the address listed on the copyright page. I’ll share the most fun cards on my blog.
I trust you enjoyed your time peeking into the shadows, and truly hope you’ll return.
Jim Johnson
July 2016
Alexandria, VA
Acknowledgements
As with any book, it took a team to put this one together, and this is where I get to thank those responsible for helping me bring this one to you. First, huge thanks to my editor Erica Satifka, who provided her usual brilliant insight on the manuscript and helped make this a much stronger story. Huge thanks to my cover artist, Lou Harper, who patiently worked through my many notes and delivered three great covers for the trilogy. And thanks to my fellow Literary Outlaw and friend, Kevin G. Summers, for preparing the layout for the print edition and offering sound advice along the way.
To all the beta readers who read this manuscript in its various formats—thank you for your comments. I didn’t use all of them, but you all helped make this a much better book.
Thanks also to the members and participants of various and sundry writing groups and discussion forums out there on the wild world interwebs, notably the Writer’s Cafe at www.kboards.com, the members of my private Pulp Speeders group, the 20booksto50k crew, and countless other writers and readers who I’ve interacted with over the years. I’ve learned from you all, whether you knew it or not.
Finally, huge thanks to my baby son Jacob for providing laughs and smiles all through the production of this book, and to my wife Damaris, without whose support and encouragement I would not have gotten this book finished, much less published.
About the Author
Jim Johnson is the author of the POTOMAC SHADOWS urban fantasy series and the PISTOLS AND PYRAMIDS fantasy western series, as well as other fiction series under development. He has written sundry other stories, including several published in the Star Trek universe, and has written material for pen and paper roleplaying game companies, including Modiphius, Decipher, and White Wolf.
Please visit www.SCRIBEINETI.com for more information on Jim and his interests and writing.
If you’d like to be added to Jim’s mailing list to be notified of giveaways, new releases, and exclusive content, please sign up at www.scribeineti.com/newsletter.
Jim lives in historic Alexandria, VA with his wife, son, and several crazy cats. He’s pretty sure he hasn’t seen any ghosts around town. Might just have to look harder.
Also by Jim Johnson
PISTOLS AND PYRAMIDS
Ranger of Mayat
Flight to the Fort
House of the Healer
Omnibus 1: The Bloody Frontier
POTOMAC SHADOWS
Beacon’s Spark
Beacon’s Hope
Beacon’s Fury
The Fine Print
Copyright © 2016 by Jim Johnson
All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please write to the publisher at the address below.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead; events; or locales is entirely coincidental. Whether the Veil and the Holding are real is for the Awakened and the dead to decide.
Version 1.4 (July 2017)
www.POTOMACSHADOWS.com
Cover artistry by Lou Harper (www.louharper.com)
Print layout by Kevin G. Summers (www.happycatstudios.com)
Editing by Erica Satifka (www.ericasatifka.com)
We’d love to hear from you! Please send letters and/or postcards of interesting places you’ve visited to:
INETI PRESS
2308 Mt. Vernon Ave., Ste #325
Alexandria, VA 22301
www.INETIPRESS.com
