The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2)

by Michael Richan

  The tour guide began to go into the history of Rupert McGraves, and Winn found himself forming a mental picture of the man as a tall, white, handsome figure with a goatee and long, flowing hair. As the guide described his silver mines, Winn imagined McGraves strolling through the caves, barking orders to his workers and inspecting the ore. He was an imposing, authoritative figure, and Winn felt drawn to him almost immediately. He wondered what it would be like to have had McGraves as a father.

  The group moved into the next room, which contained an old pool table. The walls were lined with portraits, and the tour guide began describing the people in the paintings. None of them were of McGraves, however. The tour guide said that McGraves liked to commission paintings of his routine houseguests. Winn lost interest again, and began fantasizing what it would have been like to have had a rich, handsome businessman like McGraves as a father. He imagined living in the mansion, and going on expeditions with his dad, looking for more silver mines to help increase the family fortune. Since they’d be rich, his mother wouldn’t have to work at the lounge, and since she’d be married to McGraves, she wouldn’t need to bring home men. The only downside Winn could see to this scenario was that they didn’t have PS2s in 1890.

  “As we make our way to the dining room, we’ll pass by the kitchen,” the tour guide said, catching Winn’s attention. The tour guide used his fingers to press down on his moustache as he talked, stroking it gently. “We don’t currently allow guests into the kitchen, so I want you to poke your head into the open doorway and take a quick peek at it as we go by. It was a large kitchen, outfitted with every convenience available in 1905. None of the appliances remain, so aside from how large the kitchen is, you’ll notice the lovely white tile and the inlaid woodwork in the ceiling. Our next stop is the dining room, so please follow me.”

  Alright, time to do it, Winn thought as the crowd around him began to move forward. There was a buildup of people waiting to look into the kitchen doorway. He hung back and waited until the line had dwindled, then he stepped up to the velvet rope and looked in.

  It was a stark, empty room, completely white except for the ceiling. Lying right in the middle of the floor, in a pool of red blood, was a man. There was a knife sticking out of his chest. Winn sucked in air and held it, afraid he might scream. Had none of these people seen the murdered man lying in the kitchen? How was he supposed to sneak into the room with a dead person lying right in front of him? Winn watched as the pool of blood slowly expanded, the dark red marking a stark contrast to the white tiles.

  He glanced to his left, seeing the last of the crowd move into the next room. He heard Marty speaking, asking the tour guide something.

  Now, he thought. Do it now. Jump the rope and go in.

  He couldn’t get his legs to move. His eyes remained fixed on the corpse on the floor and the pool of dark red blood surrounding it. That can’t be McGraves, he thought. This man was short and fat; nothing like the tall and handsome silver baron he’d imagined. He could hear Marty talking in the background, and he knew he needed to move, to act, to jump the rope and find a place to hide inside the kitchen, in there with the man.

  The corpse sat up.

  Winn jumped back from the rope, his eyes wide with horror. He could hear his heartbeat, pounding in his ears, drowning out the sound of Marty’s voice in the next room. He tried to look away, but he couldn’t tear his eyes from the sight of the huge knife buried in the man’s chest, and the dark red blood that soaked his shirt. He saw something dripping from the back of the man’s head, where his hair had been lying in the pool of blood.

  The corpse turned to look at him.

  Winn felt frozen. He didn’t know what to do. What he wanted most to do was run away and join the others in the tour group, but if he did that, he’d blow their plan. Then again, the plan Marty had laid out hadn’t said anything about a corpse in the kitchen, looking at him.

  He knew he needed to step over the rope and find a place to hide, and that if he didn’t do it soon, he’d be discovered. He lowered his gaze from the corpse, and looked at the velvet rope. Since it was waist high for an adult, he decided instead to slide under it.

  Now! he thought, and bolted, finding that he slid on the slick surface of the kitchen floor as his knees hit the ground and he ducked under the rope. For a moment he was afraid he’d keep sliding right into the corpse and get his pants soaked with blood. He reached forward to stop his movement, and stood. The corpse was about five feet from him, straight ahead. Now that he’d entered the room, he could see how wide it was. A white wooden door was about ten feet to his left. He ran to it and tried the handle. It opened, revealing a small pantry, no bigger than the size of a small bed. It was empty except for a set of metal shelves. He looked for a light switch, but couldn’t find one. He walked inside and before he pulled the door closed, he tried to see the doorway he’d entered the kitchen through, and couldn’t. I’m out of its line of sight, he thought. No one will see me here. He sat down on the cold floor of the pantry, leaving the door open so light would come in. Then he returned his attention to the corpse.

  It had turned to look at him, sitting in the pantry. He watched as a broad smile spread across its face. It leaned forward in his direction and reached for the ground, placing its palms flat on the floor, dragging itself toward him, driving the knife in its chest deeper into its body.

  Winn suddenly felt trapped. There was nowhere to go in the pantry, no escape except through the door he’d just entered, and he was afraid if he left the pantry he might be seen from the kitchen door.

  The corpse slowly pulled itself toward him, trailing a streak of dark blood on the white floor. Winn panicked and reached up to the pantry door handle, pulling the door closed and leaving himself in darkness.

  After a few moments his eyes adjusted, and he saw a crack of light under the door. He could hear the sound of the knife handle scraping along the kitchen floor as the corpse continued to move. He felt his breathing increase, and felt sweat on his palms.

  When he saw the light under the door darken, he knew the corpse had reached him, and he held his hands over his mouth to stop himself from screaming. When it passed through the door and he saw the face and head of the corpse emerge into the room with him, a sound emerged from his throat, and he struggled to stop it. With his back up against the wall of the pantry, he couldn’t think of anything else to do, so he dropped into the River.

  Careful, the corpse said to him, still pulling itself forward, half of its body now in the pantry with him. If those bastards hear you, they’ll haul you out of here. And then we wouldn’t be able to have a nice visit.

  Winn kept his hands pressed over his mouth. In the River he could see more of the corpse and the blade that he’d driven almost all the way through his body by crawling on the floor.

  Want to see it? the corpse said. It stopped dragging forward and pushed itself up using its left arm. With its right, it reached under its chest and pulled the knife out. It immediately whipped the knife toward Winn, holding it inches from his face.

  I should cut you little Academy pricks up into a hundred pieces! the corpse said.

  Academy? Winn thought, unsure if the corpse could hear him or not.

  McGraves paused and pulled the knife back from Winn’s face. You’re not from the Academy?

  I don’t know what you’re talking about, Winn thought, petrified.

  McGraves pulled his feet up under him and sat, leaning his torso against the side of the pantry. Winn watched as more blood oozed from the wound in his chest and began to form a new puddle.

  Some bitch up in Sedona likes to send her students down here to meet with me, like I’m a field trip or some kind of fucking test they have to pass, McGraves said. Asking all kinds of goddamn questions. I’m sick to the neck of it.

  You thought I was here for a test? Winn thought. From an Academy?

  You’re about the right goddamn age, McGraves said, and you’re obviously gifted. So yes, I assumed. But
you’re not, are you?

  No, I’m not, Winn said, relaxing a little.

  Did you find it terrifying? McGraves asked.

  What? Winn asked.

  The sitting up, the blood, the knife, all that?

  Yes, I was horrified, Winn said. I’m still horrified.

  Excellent. You’ll be my test subject. If it works, I’ll use it next time one of them fucking pricks shows up. I don’t like being used, especially by some enterprising bitch who’s making money off gifteds. I’d rather spend my time trying to lift the jewelry off the goddamn patsies out there in the tour. The metals they have these days, my god, they’re fucking astounding.

  Well, you are famous, Winn said, according to Marty. He’s my friend. He says every gifted around here knows about you, so I guess at least some of them are going to try and meet you.

  McGraves proudly straightened himself from the wall, and the blood coming out of his chest increased, slowly spreading across the floor. I don’t mind the occasional visit, but goddamn, kid after kid coming in here, asking me the same questions, trying to graduate from some ridiculous fucking school? I won’t have it. You swear you’re not part of it? I’ll cut your balls off, if you are!

  No, I swear, Winn thought. So you can control how you appear to different people? None of the others in the tour could see you.

  I can control a great many things, McGraves said. I’m extremely powerful. If I’d appeared to the others, they’d all run off screaming. I knew you were gifted, and as I said, I thought you were part of that infernal Academy, so I tried out my new look on just your eyes. If you’re not part of that Academy, then why did you sneak in here?

  Marty thought I should come here to see if you could help me.

  So you’re just another fucking leech, wanting something? McGraves said, brandishing the knife again.

  Well, he said you were an expert on silver, Winn thought. He thought you might be willing to share your knowledge about something.

  McGraves lowered the knife and smiled. He turned and rested his back against the wall of the pantry, his feet just inches from Winn’s.

  I am an expert, the greatest expert for miles, McGraves said. He raised his chin.

  Well, I came across something recently. It’s a coin, a nickel. Marty said that its date and mint are an impossible combination, that the coin shouldn’t exist. He thought you might be able to figure it out.

  Figure it out? McGraves asked. What do you mean, figure it out?

  Well, maybe you might know where it came from? And why it has special powers?

  It has special powers? McGraves eyes went wide. Let me see it. Give it to me.

  Winn looked at McGraves suspiciously. Marty said I can’t give it to you. No matter what you say.

  If you don’t give it to me, I can’t tell you anything about it. Hand it over, you little shit.

  Marty said you’d say that, and it’s a trick. He said you always try to steal metal things from people, to keep for yourself.

  It’s not true. You give it to me, I’ll tell you want you need to know, and I’ll give it right back to you.

  Marty said you’d say that, too, but that you’d really keep it instead.

  Who is this fuckhead Marty? McGraves bellowed. Why isn’t he here, irritating me in person?

  He’s my friend. He’s on the tour.

  Well, how am I supposed to help you, if I can’t touch it? I haven’t even seen it. You might be making all of this up, for all I know. McGraves raised the knife again, pointing it at Winn.

  Winn dropped out of the River, reached into his pocket and slowly removed the coin. He placed it on his palm and showed it to McGraves, reentering the flow.

  Looks like an ordinary goddamn nickel to me, McGraves said.

  It’s not, Winn replied. Watch what happens when I hold it like this... Winn dropped out of the River, picked up the coin between his fingers, and waited while the feelings developed in his stomach and exploded throughout his body. Then he jumped back into the flow.

  Where did you get it? McGraves asked.

  In a cave not far from my trailer, Winn answered. Winn saw how McGraves was eyeing the coin, wanting to take it from him. He intended to protect it, so he placed it back in his palm and closed his fingers around it. McGraves slowly shut his eyes, concentrating. Winn didn’t know if he should say anything or not.

  Ah, I think I know who gave it to you, McGraves said, opening his eyes and smiling at him.

  Who? Winn asked.

  A liar, that’s who, McGraves said, sliding closer to him. A dirty liar who got what he deserved. Someone who made promises cavalierly. Someone who ought to have known better. I despise liars!

  Who? Winn insisted. Tell me!

  You’re wasting my time, McGraves said, staring at him. I could be liberating the coins from the pockets of the people out there, but you’re in here toying with me.

  I’m not toying with you! Winn said. I really want to know.

  You already know! You’ve already seen him!

  Winn racked his brain, trying to figure out what McGraves was referring to. In the cave he’d seen only two figures; the man who was praying, and the man who was bleeding the mountain lion.

  Do you mean the men in the cave? Winn asked.

  Why would you need to come see me if you already knew that? McGraves asked, his eyes narrowing to slits. You are from that goddamn Academy, aren’t you?

  Why would he give me a coin? Winn asked, ignoring the accusation. I don’t understand.

  It was Father Kino, you dolt! McGraves bellowed, exasperated. You met the most famous ghost in all of Arizona, next to me, and you didn’t even know it! Youth!

  Who is Father Kino? Winn asked.

  Couldn’t stay awake in history class? McGraves asked, smirking. Father Kino was the one who conscripted the natives to work in his mines. Brilliant, really. He amassed a fortune before the Apaches descended upon him, angry at him for using Indians as slaves. He’s the one who hid the Escalante treasure! The Iron Door mine! I spent years looking for it, myself. Tell me, did you see an iron door anywhere in this cave?

  No, Winn said, his head swirling with the information McGraves had imparted. We didn’t go to the end of the cave, though. We stopped when we ran into the… ghosts.

  His legs were bleeding, weren’t they? McGraves hissed dramatically. Bleeding, torn, ripped open?

  I saw blood, Winn said, a little scared by McGraves description of Father Kino.

  And he was praying, wasn’t he? He was praying to God, begging for protection from the Apaches that had chased him into the hole in the ground, the ones who had speared his calves? The Apaches were ruthless and brutal. They’d slit your flesh open and let you bleed to death slowly. His legs had been tortured, hadn’t they? He was in that cave hiding, hoping they wouldn’t find him.

  He was speaking in Spanish, Winn said. Marty told me he was praying. Asking for his wounds to be healed.

  And so they were, miraculously healed. He walked with a limp, but at least his prayers were answered, and he lived. He promised that if God would protect him from the Apaches and heal him, he would return and make that cave a holy monument. That’s not the kind of vow you break, especially when it’s granted and you walk out of there, alive and healed.

  He broke the vow? Winn asked.

  McGraves turned to him, angry. Goddamn it boy, don’t be stupid. Did you see a shrine at that cave? Was it a holy monument, like he promised?

  No, Winn said, frightened by McGraves sudden temper. There was nothing there.

  He failed to fulfill his vow! So when he died years later, God took his soul and trapped it in that cave, McGraves said dramatically. A penance for breaking his solemn promise. Now he’s forever locked in that place, begging to be healed for eternity, doomed!

  Why’d he give me the coin? Winn asked.

  He thinks everyone who comes into that cave is wounded and needs healing, just like he was, McGraves said. The coin heals, does it not?

 
; It seems to, Winn said. Marty said it made his back pain go away. It just makes me feel really good.

  Padre Kino probably detected that you were gifted, and would know what to do with it, McGraves said.

  Winn looked down at the coin, confused.

  That cave is probably a good source for objects, McGraves said to himself. I’ll have to mention this to Warren.

  But why did he think I was wounded? Winn asked. I was fine. It doesn’t make sense.

  Nothing makes sense since they bombed the hell out of Nevada, boy! McGraves said, standing up. Blood dripped down from his soaked clothing, splattering around Winn and making him cower more tightly against the pantry wall. The radiation fucked up everything. He was probably just a normal ghost in that cave, trapped there for eternity, then BAM! Fallout hits, and suddenly he can spawn Callers and cut deals and all kinds of fucked up shit.

  Callers? Winn asked. What’s a Caller?

  The man you saw draining the blood from the mountain lion? That’s a Caller. He was feeding Padre Kino. He’s not from the past. He was there, real-time, repaying his debt.

  What debt? Winn said. I don’t understand!

  “Winn! Winn! Are you in there?”

  McGraves whipped his head around at the sound of the voice. Who’s that now? he said.

  That’s Marty, Winn replied. He brought me here. He’s looking for me.

  Finally, the famous Marty, McGraves said, turning back to face Winn. Give me the nickel and I’ll let you leave.

  If you’re a ghost, I can just walk right through you and leave, Winn thought.

  McGraves removed the knife from his chest once again, and pointed it at Winn. You can try, he said, waving the knife in the air, but I’ll cut your balls off if you do!

  Winn dropped out of the River and McGraves’ features instantly blurred. He could see the crack of light from under the pantry door, shining through McGraves’ body. He stood up and walked forward, convinced that McGraves was bluffing. The puddle of blood that McGraves had created while he’d been in the pantry with Winn was extensive, and Winn couldn’t see any way to get out without stepping in it. He gently placed his sneaker into the blood, hoping that since it was ghost blood, it wouldn’t ruin his shoes. As he reached McGraves he paused briefly, then walked through the apparition, feeling only a cold chill.