The Ghosts of London

by Amy Cross

  "I think you should stand back and let us handle the situation," Robinson says calmly. "This isn't something that your men are going to be able to deal with."

  "Where's Medion?" he snaps.

  "He's around somewhere," Robinson says, "although I haven't seen him for a while."

  "That guy's a flake," Nicholls mutters, bringing up page after page on the monitors but seemingly unable to work out what to do with them. "I should've known not to get into business with a guy who wears a goddamn cross around his neck. Religion has no place in the modern world, and it certainly has no place in a business transaction. The lunatic probably think he can pray all these problems away."

  "Medion's religious?" Robinson asks.

  "Don't get me wrong," Nicholls replies, "I'm a man of God myself, but Alexander Medion's a nutcase. He tried to get us to pray together at our first meeting; I mean, he actually stood up at the head of the table and said that we should try to seal the deal by getting on our knees and praising the Lord. I damn near kicked the guy out of my office there and then. If only I'd had the guts to listen to my own advice, huh? This dam was a waste of time from the start, but I allowed myself to be blinded by the possibility of sky-high returns on the original investment. All my career, I've taken rational decisions and they worked out just fine for me, and then finally I allowed myself to be dazzled by Medion's bullshit!" He pauses, seemingly a little out of breath. "What does that make me?" he asks after a moment. "An old fool?"

  "A greedy, short-sighted, arrogant old fool?" Robinson asks with a smile.

  "A greedy, short-sighted, arrogant old fool who still doesn't recognize all his mistakes?" Quix adds.

  "You're not helping," Nicholls grunts. "I want all of you out of the facility immediately. Do you hear me? I don't care where the original guards have gone, but I'll bring in fresh men from the goddamn military if necessary. You're lucky I'm not going to have you all arrested for trespassing. This is a restricted zone -"

  "A restricted zone that's threatening the entire city," Robinson replies, interrupting him with a new level of intensity in his voice. "I doubt you've seen the ghosts that are gathered out there tonight, but I can assure you that somewhere, someone's watching this mess with a great deal of satisfaction. If we're not very careful, we're all going to march straight into a trap that's been years in the setting. One wrong move, one false assumption, and it might be too late to find a way out."

  "You're insane," Nicholls replies, before turning to look at Quix and then at me. "I don't know what you ladies are doing here, but -"

  Before he can finish, Robinson fells him with a swift blow to the back of the neck, sending him thudding down to the floor with shocking efficiency.

  "He was starting to bore me," he mutters, before turning back to the terminals as if nothing happened.

  Staring down at Nicholls, I realize that not only is he completely still, but there's a patch of blood oozing out from the side of his head.

  "Is he -" I start to say.

  "Who isn't around these parts?" Quix asks. "Don't stress, girl. He's probably just concussed."

  I open my mouth to argue with her, as the pool of blood gets bigger and bigger, but finally I realize that it might be best to just hope for the best.

  "I've got it!" Robinson calls out suddenly.

  "A great idea that's going to save the city?" Quix asks hopefully.

  "A very, very bad idea that's going to save the city," he replies. "Still, it's better than anything you could have come up with. Let me guess, you were thinking along the lines of a controlled nuclear strike?"

  "You know I like blowing things up," she replies with a faint smile.

  "Not today," he says triumphantly. "I've checked the plans, and I'm pretty sure I know how to reverse the pump flow so that the water in the reservoirs returns to the river. That's the easy part. The hard part is getting the ghosts to leave the dam alone so that the reversal is permanent. At the moment, they're poking around in the internals like a bunch of goblins, and you know how much I hate goblins."

  "It's true," Quix says, turning to me. "He does hate goblins."

  "Actual goblins?" I ask.

  She nods.

  "Tell me, Katie," Robinson continues, "when the time comes for your mortal body to be laid to rest, where would you like to be buried? No limits, all expenses paid, you can pick anywhere in the world. Where would you go?"

  "I don't know," I reply, a little taken aback by the question. "Just... somewhere nice? Somewhere peaceful?"

  "So not the bottom of a boggy old river, then?" he replies.

  "I guess not..."

  "We can't move all the bodies," he continues, heading to the main terminal and hitting some switches, "but we can change where they're buried."

  "How?" Quix asks.

  "You'll see," he says with a smile, as the pipes above our heads start to clatter and bang. "I've reversed the pumps via an override," he continues, turning to us. "By the time the ghosts figure out how to undo my fix, at least some of the water should be back, and that's all we need for now. It's heading this way right now from the first pump release station a few miles east, and if everything goes according to plan, the other stations should release their contents over the next few hours. By sunrise, the river should be at least halfway back to its original volume, and the rest should follow naturally over time. All we need is to have enough of the damn stuff to allow me to pull off my masterstroke."

  "And what's that?" Quix asks skeptically.

  He smiles.

  "Oh, crap," Quix mutters. "No, Robinson, that would be a big mistake."

  "What?" I ask, waiting for one of them to tell me what's going on.

  "Are you serious?" she continues.

  "Deadly," he replies.

  "You're meddling in something you don't understand," she says firmly. "Anyway, you don't believe in God."

  "I don't need to," he says. "The ghosts believe, though, and that's all that matters. Faith in God might not have any basis in reality, but that doesn't mean it can't be used from time to time. History is filled with examples of people using faith to control and influence other people, so why shouldn't I give it a go? I just have to make sure that I sound as convincing as possible."

  "This is madness," she replies.

  "I told you it'd come in handy one day," he continues with a grin. "And to think, you thought it was some kind of vanity issue. I studied hard for those robes, and I'm damn well going to use my training."

  "What robes?" I ask, staring at Robinson for a moment before turning to Quix. "Is someone going to tell me what's happening?"

  "Robinson is many things," Quix replies darkly, staring at Robinson with a cautious look in her eyes. "He's a professor of paranormal arts. He's an expert on satanic cults and voodoo traditions. He's one of the world's foremost authorities on goblins, gremlins and ghosts, and he literally wrote the books on some of London's most hideous creatures." She pauses, before turning to me. "He's also an ordained priest."

  "Bingo," Robinson says with a grin, as the pipes begin to clatter above us with renewed vigor. "Katie," he adds, turning to me, "there's a substantial wall of water headed this way and its destructive power should be considerable. I think this might be a good moment to go find your sister and tell her to hold tight to something."

  I stare at him.

  "This isn't the time to let old grudges control you," he adds. "I know you're angry at her, you might even hate her, but if you've ever loved her and if you think there's even a chance you might love her again, go find her and make sure she's safe."

  Chapter Six

  Rachel

  The ground has started to rumble. Something's coming this way.

  On my hands and knees, down in the muddy riverbed, I brace myself for another wave of pain. For the past few minutes I've been in agony, as if something in my stomach is twisting and turning as it tries to rip me apart. The pain eases occasionally, only to come back with renewed force as more mud comes up into my m
outh. I want to be wrong, but I think this might really be the end.

  "You've got it lucky," I whisper, glancing over at Alexander's dead body. "You only had to die once. I hope you come back, though. I want you to see how wrong you were."

  As I try to get to my feet, I turn and look around at the ghosts nearby. They're still staring up at the dam, and as I follow their gaze, I realize that a figure has emerged on one of the gantry points that overhangs the riverbed. Squinting a little, I'm finally able to see that it's Robinson, and he seems to be using a length of rope to secure himself to the railing, almost as if he expects to be washed away at any moment.

  I try to stumble forward, but the pain is too intense. I guess this is how I'm finally going to die, then: doubled over in agony on the floor of a drained river, with the cold night sky above and only ghosts for company. I just hope that, wherever she is, Katie's going to be okay, and that she might even come to understand one day that I did my best. I didn't mean to let her down.

  "Rachel!" a voice shouts.

  Looking further along the gantry, I see Katie hurrying down a set of steps and then dropping onto the mud. I try to wave her away, but she races between the ghosts and finally comes to a halt next to me.

  "We have to get out of here," she stammers, grabbing my arm and trying to pull me along with her. "Robinson's re-flooding the river. We've only got a few minutes. Probably not even that."

  "I can't," I tell her, barely able to raise my voice above a whisper. "Katie, you have to leave me here."

  "No way," she says firmly, with tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry about everything I said earlier. I know you did your best, and that none of it was your fault. It was Dad's fault, and Mum's, and then when I got to London it was Simeon's fault, and maybe my fault for believing him, but you're not to blame for any of it." She pauses. "I love you," she adds finally, "and I don't want to lose you again. I can't lose you. You're the only one who knows what it was like when we were kids."

  "I -" Before I can finish, I vomit some more mud, and this time it feels as if my insides are burning up.

  "What's wrong with you?" she asks.

  "I think it's just my time," I reply, my voice trembling as the pain reaches up inside my stomach and grips my chest. "I've died so many times, Katie. It's catching up to me. Maybe I can't hold it back forever."

  "Hear this!" Robinson shouts from the gantry point, holding what appears to be a Bible in one hand. "As an ordained minister of the fourth house of restitution, I command that this river shall henceforth be known as a holy and sacred place, and that all those who rest in or below the river's water shall be offered the full protection of the Lord! Let all doubters and non-believers see that I speak the truth!"

  I turn to Katie.

  "It's his best idea," she says uncertainly.

  "Let evil spirits be cast from this place," Robinson continues, "and let the light of God fall now and forever through the depths of the river, offering his succor to all those who rest beneath its surface. Never again shall the Thames be a dumping ground for the bodies of those who are to be forgotten by this world. From this day forward, those whose bodies rest within the confines of the river are blessed, and rightly so, for they are part of the city's beating heart."

  "Is he making this up as he goes along?" I ask.

  "I think it's the thought that counts," she replies, before the ground starts to shake more violently than ever. She turns and looks the other way, and her eyes widen with terror. "Rachel," she says, trying to pull me toward the ladder that hangs down from one of the gantry points, "I'm not kidding, we really need to get moving right now!"

  "I can't," I reply, looking over my shoulder and seeing a torrent of water rushing along the trench. We've only got a few seconds left, so I grab Katie's arm and despite the overpowering pain in my chest, I run with her toward the ladder. "You go first," I tell her, before putting my arms around her. "I love you too," I whisper, "and I'll always -" Feeling a shiver run through my body, I'm shocked for a moment by the sensation of my heart beating, just once. It's been so long since I felt it moving, I'm dazed for a fraction of a second before the roar of the oncoming water shakes me out of my reverie. "Move!" I shout, physically pushing Katie up the ladder.

  "Not without you!" she shouts back at me.

  "I'll be right with you," I say. "But only if you go first!"

  She starts climbing, but I simply turn and watch as the wall of water rushes this way, crashing through the ghosts. I keep my eyes wide open, and although the sound is deafening, I can still just about make out the sound of Robinson reciting his blessing. Finally, I hold my hands out to my sides as the water smashes into me, but I find to my surprise that I'm not knocked off my feet at all; instead, the water seems to be rushing through me, and I raise my head to look up at the ladder just as it's ripped from the gantry and sent tumbling through the water. I desperately look for any sign of Katie having been washed away, but I figure she must have made it in time.

  "Please God," I whisper, even though I don't believe in God at all, "just keep her safe."

  Looking down at my hands, I watch as the rushing water continues to flow through my body. The pain in my chest has disappeared completely, and I feel as if all the mud has left my stomach. Finally, as the water continues to crash all around me, I feel my mind starting to fragment, with piece after piece lifting from the surface and being carried along by the current. Although I try to fight it at first, eventually I realize that I want to become part of the river; the very last thing that I do, before my soul is washed away entirely, is smile.

  It's been so long since I last smiled.

  Chapter Seven

  Katie

  "Move!"

  Gasping for air, I'm pulled up onto the gantry just as the water hits. The whole structure shakes for a moment, as if it might come loose, and I roll onto my front and look down through the gaps in the floor: below, a torrent of water is rushing past before continuing for a few meters and then slamming straight into the dam.

  "It's okay," Quix says, hauling me to my feet. "Robinson opened the floor barrier, so it should be -"

  Before she can finish, the entire gantry jolts and we both fall back down to the floor.

  "It should be stable," Quix continues as we get up again. "For now, anyway."

  I stare at the rushing water for a moment, before looking around in the hope of seeing Rachel somewhere.

  "Where is she/" I ask, my heart racing with such force that it feels like it might leap out of my chest.

  "Who?"

  I hurry to the side of the gantry, but as the water continues to rush past, it's clear that there's no way anyone could simply climb to safety, not anymore. I want to call out to my sister, but I know that as soon as I do, Quix will come and tell me that there's no hope. Instead, I simply watch the water while hoping that somehow there might be a miracle. So many crazy, insane things have happened over the past few days, I don't see why there can't be one more.

  "Did you find her?" Quix asks eventually.

  I open my mouth to reply, but I can't bring myself to say the words.

  "Robinson blessed the water," she continues, coming over to join me at the edge of the rattling gantry. "The souls who were dumped into the river should be able to rest in peace now. If our theory's right, the only reason they sabotaged the dam was so their plight could be revealed."

  I don't say anything. The truth is, I know that I'll burst into tears as soon as another word leaves my lips, so I simply stay focused on the water and try not to let my bottom lip tremble too much.

  "You're alive," Quix says after a moment.

  I want to tell her that it doesn't matter, that being alive without Rachel doesn't feel like much of a victory, but suddenly I realize that she's right: I am alive. Reaching up to my neck, I immediately feel my pulse pounding, and I might be imagining it but I'm convinced I can feel my heart beating furiously in my chest. I turn to Quix, and it's clear from the look in her eyes that she's not sure what'
s happening either.

  "Let me," she says, putting two fingers against my neck for a moment. "You sure as hell weren't alive a few minutes ago."

  "How..." I pause, before looking back down at the water.

  "What happened down there?" she asks.

  "Rachel did it," I say after a moment. "She... I don't know how, but she must have found some way to give me whatever life she had left."

  "It could also have been -"

  "It was Rachel," I say firmly, turning to her. "I know it was her. She kept dying and coming back, right? So she obviously had some kind of life force inside her, and she gave it to me."

  Quix pauses, and it's clear that she has her own theory. Finally, however, she smiles. "Sure. I guess this is hardly the right time to be giving lectures about what's possible and what isn't, right? I'm just sorry that you lost her."

  Preferring not to answer, I look along the gantry and see that Robinson has collapsed, still tied to the side. Following my gaze, Quix hurries over to him and unties him before dragging him to safety. She checks his pulse, and finally his eyes open.

  "Hey, preacher man," Quix says with a smile.

  "It feels different," he replies, slowly getting back to his feet and walking to the edge of the gantry. "Am I imagining it?" he asks, looking out at the re-filled river. "It is different, isn't it? The whole river."

  "I guess," Quix replies. "If you blessed it..."

  "It's not a river of death anymore," he continues. "It's a river of life. Two thousand years of pain and secrets, all undone in a moment." He pauses. "And I'm soaking wet. Seriously, I'm freezing. This suit isn't waterproof at all." He turns to Quix. "I want a refund from that mad bastard in the arches. He told me this suit would be waterproof to a depth of fifty feet, and I paid good money for that privilege. Look at me! I'm drenched!"