Bob's Greatest Mistake_Part Two of The Journals of Bob Drifter

by M. L. S. Weech

  “If your damn secrets cause her to become one of those ... things,” Bob said, pointing at the Blacksoul that had coiled around Drisc’s sleeve. “We’re done. If she dies because you couldn’t trust me ... ” Bob let the comment hang in the air. I was supposed to be your best friend. You were supposed to help me save her.

  30

  Pursuit

  Patience wandered aimlessly until a thought occurred to her. If Grimm sought dying things, she might be able to lose herself in a crowd of dying people, so she went to the emergency room of Community General Hospital feeling guilty because she hoped it was a busy night. As far as she could tell, a Death Sense, and even a Dark Sense like Grimm used, was like a string only Journeymen could see. If that was the case, an emergency room could look like a ball of string that had been tossed around.

  There were four people rushed into surgery since she’d arrived. Some drunk had caused an accident on Interstate 81. Three men and a woman all looked in bad shape. It wasn’t a lot, but it had to be enough.

  She watched every person around her. One of her first questions about Journeymen had been how many existed. Bob had given her one of a million vague answers that started too often with, “I don’t really know.” Apparently, there were only “just enough” to cover any certain area.

  Another stretcher burst in, carrying an old woman. One man pushed the stretcher as another man gave the woman CPR. Did that mean there were six people about to die in the hospital? Did Grimm want to take them all?

  Patience realized that each critically injured person was a potential Blacksoul for Grimm. As a group of nurses and a doctor approached the old woman’s stretcher, Patience realized that she may have led Grimm right to the hospital to collect more power.

  Patience considered leaving while she watched the doctor, a middle-aged woman, check the elderly patient’s vitals. She shook her head.

  “She’s DOA,” the doctor said. A low conversation began.

  Patience got as close as she dared to the group.

  “Whichever of you is a Journeyman, get what you came for and meet me outside,” she said. “Grimm is coming, and he wants what you’re here for.” She didn’t look for anyone to react. She simply headed out the sliding glass door of the hospital.

  A pair of park benches sat under a light just a few feet from the hospital entrance. Patience looked at the shadows between her and the benches like they were vipers. She hurried across and sat down on the bench. A frantic chuckle escaped her as she realized she was truly afraid of her own shadow. Of course, tonight her shadow was actually likely to jump up and kill her—at least, in a manner of speaking.

  It seemed ironic to her. As a photographer, she spent most of her adult life controlling shadow. The best photographers knew exactly how to get shadows the way they wanted. She didn’t compare herself to any of the greats, but she was damn good.

  She heard someone approach and turned to look, afraid it might be Grimm. The doctor from the emergency room stalked toward her. The doctor did not look happy.

  “Just who the hell are you?” the doctor asked.

  “I’m a friend of Bob’s,” she said. “And Drisc’s,” she added, hoping Drisc’s rank, or whatever, would pay off.

  “That means he can just say whatever he wants to whomever, and then that damn fool mortal can start blabbing in an emergency room?” the doctor asked angrily as she sat next to Patience. It was a little odd seeing someone try to sit calmly even though she was clearly angry about something.

  “It does if Grimm is after me as his first official kill and latest edition in a collection of hundreds of Blacksouls,” Patience replied sharply. She’d had about an hour of sleep in the past two days and didn’t feel like explaining herself to anyone.

  The doctor’s expression froze midway through Patience’s tirade. “Hundreds?” the doctor whispered.

  “I saw them and heard him promise I’d be next,” Patience replied, a bit more calmly, since it seemed she had the doctor’s attention.

  “I think ... ” the Joureyman said. She paused as if she realized she was about to say something. She recognized the doctor’s look of regret. Drisc and Bob had been looking at her the same way.

  “How much time do I have left?” she asked. She only let a hint of anxiety into her voice, but somehow that hint showed more terror than any scream could. The Journeyman took a deep breath.

  “Less than an hour,” the doctor answered.

  Bob sat silently in the back seat as Drisc drove, following whatever his Blacksoul allowed him to see. As worried as Bob was for Patience, he couldn’t find enough energy to brood about his mentor, but he also didn’t feel the need to speak to him any more than necessary. Richard had tried to order them to calm down, and it even worked for about five minutes. Then Bob remembered someone he trusted had an important tool to keeping Patience safe and kept it a secret.

  “So how much power does the first one give you?” Bob asked accusingly.

  “I told you, I just figured out how the Dark Sense worked last night,” Drisc barked. “I have ... glimpses ... of who I was before. My powers are stronger.”

  “Does that mean you can sense Grimm?” Richard asked.

  Drisc laughed bitterly. “I only ‘ave one; ‘e has hundreds. I couldn’t take ‘im on if ‘e were drunk ta the point of blackin’ out, hog-tied, ‘n blindfolded.”

  “You’re all I have,” Bob found himself saying.

  “I know ye’re pissed at me,” Drisc said. Bob could hear the regret in his friend’s voice. “But I won’t let ye down. I mean ta fix this.”

  “I have to Transport this soul,” the doctor told Patience.

  Patience knew that should be her cue to run away screaming. But what if this could help her understand how her soul should be Transported? What if Bob saved her and she missed the chance to see what happened?

  “Can I ... ” Patience paused to find the right words. “Could I watch?” She hung her head. Whatever the right words were, those weren’t them.

  The doctor looked serious for a moment, then nodded. “Bob will owe me a favor.”

  The light above the benches grew brighter. It got so bright it was a wonder Patience could stand it. She noticed the silhouetted form of the doctor stand on the bench and hold her hand up to the light. Her hand glowed for an instant before the light surged, and then it faded into an average street lamp once more.

  Patience felt a range of emotions from amazement to disappointment. The gateway to heaven was a street lamp?

  The doctor must have noticed Patience’s struggle. She said, “It’s different a lot of times. I once had to actually throw a soul in the dumpster. Turns out, the man’s prized car was in the bottom of the heap I Passed his soul into.”

  “So the souls go to something important to the person?” Patience asked.

  “Or symbolic, or ... well, it’s a lot of things. Not all different, but a lot of different forms. We can use just about anything as a Transport Point.”

  “Do you have to Pass the other part on, the part that gets to stay?”

  “I did that before I came out here,” the doctor answered. She must have noticed Patience’s disappointment because she added, “I’m sorry, but we have to do that as quickly as we can.”

  “Before it sours,” Patience said quietly. How long until my soul sours? She didn’t ask the question out loud. The answer scared her too much.

  “You said Bob would owe you one,” Patience said, changing the subject. “How long have you known him? Umm, I’m sorry, I don’t know what to call you.”

  “Tori,” the doctor said, offering a name. “It’s more like I know of him. He caused a pretty big stir about a year back.”

  “He told me about trying to help people,” Patience said.

  “Well, some say that isn’t much help, but good or bad, he forced a lot of us to think.” Tori pulled out a pack of cigarettes. She offered one to Patience, who refused.

  “Given my situation, that would seem far too cl
iché,” she said.

  Tori laughed. “Meeting you makes me think we Journeymen will have another stir not too long from now.”

  “Hopefully not too big a stir.”

  “When you do what we do, anything is a big stir.”

  “Really?”

  “Sure, Bob’s last bit of drama had us all thinking about our jobs a little differently, so why not this new bit?”

  “What did it make you wonder?” Patience asked, truly curious.

  “That life, the thing that life really is, it never di—” She stopped in mid-sentence and shivered visibly as the street lamp began to flicker. “You need to run.”

  Bob hardly let the car come to a stop at the hospital before leaping out and looking around. He could feel Grimm in the area and maybe even another Journeyman. He scanned the area with his Death Sense, only to discover three Death Trails. She must have planned to hide with the other dying people, Bob thought, frustrated.

  He was about to head after the first trail before he noticed Drisc walking purposely toward the emergency entrance to the hospital. Richard fell in behind the two Journeymen and kept his pistol holstered.

  “We need to hurry,” Drisc said as he started to run. They rushed through the sliding glass door and wound through a few hallways.

  Someone screamed. Bob’s heart leapt, and he ran in the direction of Patience’s cry for help. A few quick turns led them into a small room. Patience hid behind a Journeyman Bob didn’t recognize as about a dozen Blacksouls tried to herd Patience into the shadows.

  “Patience!” Bob called, holding out a hand. A Blacksoul leapt at Bob. He flinched from the blow when he noticed Drisc cut at the attacker with his own Blacksoul knife. The blade seemed to do its job, as the rest of the Blacksouls turned their attention to Drisc warily.

  “Go!” the unfamiliar Journeyman in a doctor’s outfit yelled. A Blacksoul leapt on her back and bit her. Drisc cut at it and watched it scurry back into the shadows with its friends. They slipped out of the room.

  “Come on,” Drisc yelled, pushing the group out of the door. Bob took Patience’s hand and ran as fast as he could pull her.

  Tori felt Drisc help her up. She wiped a bit of blood off her shoulder from where one of those things had bit her. “I’m OK,” she told the Senior Journeyman.

  She rose, trying to force herself to help, for what it was worth. The problem was, she was terrified. She was 129 years old and had never been more afraid in her life.

  “Not so fast,” Drisc said, putting a hand on her.

  Tori’s pride wanted to protest while the rest of her wanted to run screaming in any direction. The contrast of emotions left her mouth moving and no words escaping.

  “There’s other people that are supposed to die tonight,” Drisc said. “I need you to get to those souls before Grimm does. He won’t go after them, but he’ll collect them if he can.”

  “What makes you so sure?” Tori asked.

  “Don’t really have time to explain, lass, just get yer arse out there and get those souls,” Drisc commanded. “Then get the fuck out of here.”

  Tori ran out without another word. She felt ashamed to be so glad she was sent away. They were very brave to want to protect that girl, but Grimm was unstoppable. Only a fool with a death wish would take that monster on.

  Bob ran in the only direction the Blacksouls would let him, which was up. He didn’t like the idea of being herded, but he didn’t have time to think. He heard Drisc call out to them down a hospital hallway. The doors were slammed shut, and Blacksouls held them closed. Anyone not lucky enough to be in their beds asleep found themselves being attacked by slithering, black nightmares.

  He held Patience’s hand tightly, refusing to let go for even a moment. Richard did what little he could do, which was to say that he pointed out where the Blacksouls were closest. The creatures began to close the gaps. At least a dozen stood between Bob and the nearest door, which was to a stairway leading to the roof.

  One Blacksoul suddenly jolted backward as an onyx blade burst from its middle. Two more monsters came to their friend’s assistance, only to flee screaming. Bob felt pangs of fear and pride as Drisc cut his way to the group, hacking wildly with his Blacksoul in the form of a machete. Bob found himself wondering if Blacksouls could hurt one another before one bit his friend on the arm.

  “Drisc!” Patience shouted, bringing Bob out of his daze.

  “Go!” Drisc shouted.

  “I’m not—” Bob meant to finish with, “going to leave you,” but Richard pulled him though the gap Drisc had made. Drisc spun and slashed, hacked and shouted when Bob looked back. They burst through the door.

  “We have to go,” Richard barked when Bob tried to hold the door open.

  But he’s my best friend, Bob thought. Richard shut the door and stared at him.

  “Don’t make my mistake,” he told Bob.

  The Journeyman looked at the former policeman and understood. Kyle LeShea had died to save someone else, but Richard couldn’t let it go. Bob couldn’t let Drisc risk himself and still lose the fight. He looked at Patience. Bob thought she should be frightened or angry, but she didn’t. She had tears in her eyes.

  “He’ll be OK,” she said. She knows she’s going to die, and she wants to comfort me? He grabbed her hand and ran up the stairs just as a new batch of Blacksouls began slipping up to chase them.

  They bit him and clawed him. But the Blacksouls’ screams, those high-pitched whines, were the worst to deal with, as far as Drisc was concerned. Not that he had a lot of time for thinking. About two seconds after Bob and the rest headed out the emergency exit, Drisc realized that having his one bloody Blacksoul was little better than having a knife in a gunfight.

  That didn’t stop him from fighting. He spun and cut and slashed as quickly and furiously as he could. He found himself desperately wanting to take some sort of sword-fighting classes when this was over—if he lived. Living was the priority. A Blacksoul bit him behind the knee. Drisc stabbed it through what the beast used as a head.

  Three more leapt from the shadows. It was the same every time Drisc thought he hurt one: One went down, and three more came out of the woodwork. “You beasties can hurt me all you want,” Drisc yelled. Another set of teeth clamped on his other leg, and he fell to the ground. His arm moved more in a show of effort than a show of execution. “I’m not supposed to die, and you aren’t supposed to be able to kill. Let’s see which of us is wrong.”

  Two Blacksouls formed themselves into star-shaped projectiles as the creatures around them launched the stars at Drisc. His own Blacksoul, Lynne, protected him on her own instinct. It was the only secret he had left. The worst thing he’d ever done in two lifetimes was to let her soul rot, and it still protected him, forming herself into a shield. When the star-shaped Blacksouls struck, he felt her pain.

  In that instant, he knew that Blacksouls could hurt one another, but not kill. Drisc forced himself back to his feet as Lynne morphed into a machete again. He’d counted at least twenty that he’d hurt. At least sixty more surrounded him. They hissed as they crept closer.

  “Come on!” he shouted. I did right by you in the end, Bob. “What are ye waiting for? See if you can kill! See if you can kill me and eat me up.” If they get away, it’s a decent way to die. I’d like it better to die warm and in bed, but this is good. “I’ll make you choke on me on the way down!”

  All the Blacksouls suddenly perked up like some sort of dogs that heard a whistle. They gave Drisc one last scream before bolting away in every direction. Some leapt at Drisc and clawed him as they left, but they all left. Drisc sat there in a daze for a few moments.

  “That right!” he shouted, wondering if he’d wet himself. “None get the best of ‘ol Driscoll Navin.”

  His Blacksoul became a piece of cloth that he put in his pocket. “I’m comin’ after your boss next!”

  A thought occurred to Drisc. They weren’t supposed to be able to kill, not unless Grimm was right about being
able to kill Patience when it was time, but why didn’t they take Drisc as close to death as they could? A cold shiver ran up his spine. They didn’t really need him dead. They just need me out of the way.

  Bob kept Patience between himself and Richard as they fought their way to the roof. In all honesty, they ran like hell trying to keep the hoard of Blacksouls from surrounding them. Without Drisc, there simply was no fighting them.

  They burst out of the stairwell onto the roof. A row of lights surrounded the exterior of the hospital. The only lights pointing the right way shone on a raised platform where a service shed sat. They ran to it. Bob felt his lungs burning. He looked at Patience. She was moments from death, and he didn’t know how to stop it.

  A Blacksoul caught Richard’s legs. He fired a few rounds into it, if for no other reason than to feel like he was fighting. Bob shined a flashlight on it, sending it fleeing back into the shadows. As Richard stood beside him, Bob realized they had nowhere else to run.

  Patience had her back to the rail of the ladder-well leading down from the platform of the shed to the roof of the hospital. He heard the metal of the railing whine in protest.

  “Stay with me,” he told her.

  The roof-access door banged open as Drisc charged toward the group. Bob felt his heart leap as his friend approached, bringing the only real weapon they had against the black monsters.

  I’m going to save her, Bob thought. We won’t let him win.

  “Bob!” Richard shouted. The Blacksouls were making a final push at Patience. Richard flicked his light around as if it were a sword, but the creatures kept coming, like an endless black tide.

  That odd metal whine came again as Patience tried to back away from a Blacksoul reaching for her. Bob noticed Grimm, the man behind the monsters, approaching from the shadows. Drisc cried out in pain as a pair of Blacksouls began to attack him. Patience moved to climb over the railing and down to help him. She didn’t think about the risk to herself. The railing gave way, and Patience fell out of sight.