The Impossible Coin (The Downwinders Book 2)

by Michael Richan

  “He told me how kind you were to people in need,” Winn said.

  “Ooo,” she cooed at him, “you’re a quick little bookworm, aren’t you? Would you like to eat your way through my apple, little bookworm?”

  “Stop teasing him,” Marty said. “He’s sixteen, for christ’s sake. Jail bait in this state.”

  “Fine,” she said, leaning back in her chair, surrendering. “What do you want?”

  “I told you, we just need some info,” Marty said. “Remember when you cleaned out that apartment building in Mesa years ago? You thought it was a vampire, but it was a revenant? Couldn’t get rid of it?”

  “I remember,” Ida said, her eyes half closed as though she was barely listening.

  “Well, you did get rid of it, somehow, remember? Winn has a similar problem. An unusual, powerful ghost won’t let him go. We’ve got to find a way to get it off his back. I was hoping you could explain how you managed to solve your problem. Maybe we could follow the same approach.”

  “What’s it worth to you?” Ida asked.

  “Seriously, Ida?” Marty said. “After everything I did for you?”

  “Broke up with me and left me sitting at Balducci’s with a half a glass of wine and an uneaten plate of antipasti?” Her nose was continuing to inflate. Winn thought it almost looked like the red foam nose of a clown.

  “Bitterness doesn’t become you,” Marty replied.

  She turned to Winn. “Have you ever abandoned someone? Left them vulnerable, wounded and bleeding?”

  Winn was unprepared for the question, and even though he knew she was talking about an event between herself and Marty, her words cut into him, and he felt suddenly small and weak.

  “Of course you haven’t, you’re too young to have done such a thing,” she said spitefully, turning back to Marty. “Make sure you teach him the things you’re really good at. How to hurt people!”

  Winn felt himself tearing up, and he turned away from the other two to wipe his eyes. He didn’t want them to see him do it, but Marty noticed.

  “Winn’s friend bled to death six years ago, when they were both ten years old,” Marty told her. “Winn left him in the desert to go for help. When we returned, he had died.”

  “Oh,” Ida said, all of the wind gone from her sails. “Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said those things. Really, Winn, I do apologize. I am a bitch, plain and simple. If he didn’t tell you I was, I’m telling you. I can get very nasty sometimes and he’s absolutely right, it doesn’t become me.”

  Winn turned back to face her, and was surprised to see that her nose had returned to normal. “That’s OK,” he said. “You didn’t know.”

  “Let me guess…” she said. “He’s the one who’s bothering you. Your friend who died.”

  “Yes,” Marty said. “He died holding a powerful object. He was angry with Winn for leaving him to go get help, and that object seems to have amplified the anger.”

  “What does he do to you?” Ida asked.

  “Blood in my shoes,” Winn said. “My socks will be soaked with blood. Not my blood.”

  “Eew!” Ida said, scrunching up her face. “That’s a new one!”

  “His friend died with wounds to his feet and legs,” Marty said.

  “Oh!” Ida replied. “What else?”

  “Nightmares,” Winn said. “My legs attacked by Z-flies.”

  “Z-flies?” Ida said. “That’s pretty unusual too. Was your friend gifted? How did he know about Z-flies?”

  “No, he wasn’t gifted,” Winn said.

  “I think he uses Winn’s fear of Z-flies against him,” Marty interjected. “I’m afraid that’s my fault. I told Winn about them years ago.”

  “The worst is my friends,” Winn said. “He hurts them.”

  “Hurts them?” Ida asked.

  “Yeah,” Winn replied. “Broken bones, amputations, that kind of thing.”

  “To their legs?” Ida asked. “Like what happened to him?”

  “Exactly,” Winn answered.

  “Oh, he is angry!” Ida said. “How long has this been going on?”

  “It started up a couple of years ago, when I stopped visiting the spot where he died,” Winn said. “It’s been getting a lot worse lately. I barely sleep.”

  “Could you resume…” Ida started, but Marty cut her off.

  “Already tried that,” Marty said. “He’s so vengeful, I don’t think he’ll stop even if Winn did start visiting him again. You remember that ghost in Silver City? The old woman who hated her neighbors?”

  “Oh, her!” Ida said. “She was so unhinged!”

  “Brent, his dead friend, is like that,” Marty said. “The anger has completely taken him over. There’s no capacity there anymore for mercy. He’ll never stop.”

  Winn’s sadness deepened a little. He remembered how upset Brent would become when he felt Winn had slighted him in any way. He always thought Brent was too sensitive, and always brushed it off, but he never dreamed it would turn into this – an out of control anger, snowballing. He still had a memory of Brent as a friend, someone who had been loyal to him and someone he could depend on for friendship in what had been an otherwise lonely trailer park. He remembered Brent bruised and aching from his father’s beating, and holding his hand as he drifted off to sleep on the tree platform. He could still picture the leaves of the tree rustling slightly in the breeze above him. How did that kid, the one he’d comforted, the one he thought was his friend, turn into this? Into something so evil?

  “Well, it does sound like you need some help,” Ida said. “Marty’s right, Winn, I had a similar problem, years ago. I tolerated it as long as I could, but in the end I had to do something about it. Seems like you might be at that point?”

  “Yeah,” Winn said. “I guess I am.”

  “Be sure,” Ida said. “The solution I can suggest comes at a price, and you don’t want to do it if you think you can handle this in some other way.”

  “Like what?” Winn asked.

  “Well, Marty seems to think there’s no point in trying to talk to him,” Ida said. “Do you agree?”

  “I think so,” Winn said. “I mean, we tried to talk to him. He just seemed more pissed.”

  “I’ve seen it before, Winn,” Marty said. “That’s why I wanted to go out to the tree with you this morning. I had to see for myself how bad it was. He’s turned. The anger is the connection now, not any kind of pleasant memory he might have of you or the time you two spent together. It won’t get better. It’s a one-way street for him. The anger will continue to build, and he’ll continue to lash out at you in more and more destructive ways.”

  “Is that what happened to you?” Winn asked Ida.

  “I had nearly gone blind before I did something about it,” Ida said. “Once they latch onto you like that, it’s incredibly hard to stop them. Takes something very powerful.”

  “What?” Winn asked.

  “Well,” Ida said, shifting her gaze to Marty and then back to Winn, “like I said, you need to be positive about the decision to do it. It can be dangerous. It did work for me. But you need to be sure.”

  “He doesn’t have enough experience to be sure,” Marty said to Ida, his frustration with her hesitancy showing. “He’s too young. I’m telling you, I saw it, and the ghost isn’t going to stop, so why don’t you just tell him what he has to do?”

  “Because it won’t be you paying the price for it!” she snapped back at Marty. “It’ll be him.”

  “Paying the price?” Winn asked, suddenly scared. He felt an urge to bolt from his chair and leave Marty and Ida alone, just run out the door and try to pretend that the things that were happening to him simply weren’t real, and that if he just disbelieved them enough, they’d go away.

  Ida saw his concern, and she sighed. “There is a house up north, on the outskirts of Flagstaff. It’s abandoned. There’s something inside it that can fix this for you, make it so your friend can never bother you again. I don’t know if it w
orks by forcing the soul to the other side so that it permanently moves on, or if it somehow destroys the soul completely. But I know that the problem gets solved, however it works.”

  “What is it?” Marty asked. “In the house?”

  “I didn’t know when I went there,” Ida said, “I was in such a rush to solve my problem. But I’ve since learned more about it. I was frustrated with what happened, so I did some research after the fact. I wish I’d done it before!”

  “What?” Marty asked impatiently.

  “I knew I’d have to pay it something, I just didn’t know what,” Ida said. “That’s the problem. You don’t know what it’s going to take. It’ll get rid of it, but you won’t know the price you paid until after it’s done.”

  “What is ‘it’?” Marty asked, nearly ready to come off his seat and strangle the information out of her.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what happened to me,” Ida said, looking at Winn. “I told you already the ghost that was on me had nearly made me blind. It was because of what happened to its eyes, which it blamed me for, but that’s a whole different story. Anyway, I learned of this place in Flagstaff, and I went there. Talked to the entity there. Solved the problem. But later I learned that when I become upset, I lose control of myself, in a bad way. It’s something about my personality that I’ve always hated, something that drives people away from me, I’m afraid.” She glanced over at Marty, then back to Winn. “It’s like that entity looked inside me and took part of me for itself, took away my self-control, to make itself stronger. I didn’t know it was going to do that. I knew it wanted some kind of payment, but I didn’t know that was what it would be. You won’t know, either, if you go there. If you agree to its terms, it’ll take something of you, and you won’t have any control over what it is.”

  “Jesus, Ida,” Marty said, wiping his forehead. “I wish you had told me about this.”

  “When you’re desperate, you do desperate things,” she said. “I can’t say I wish I hadn’t, because at least I’ve got my eyesight! So I did what I had to do. When I found out what had happened to me, I did a little more research into it, the research I should have done before I went in the first place. There’s a man who lives in Toquerville. He knows all about the entities, he’s sort of an expert. I went to see him, and he explained a lot of it to me.”

  “And?” Marty asked.

  “And, well, he told me what it was, in that house. It’s called a vorghost. Very powerful.”

  “A vorghost?” Winn asked.

  “When a gifted person dies, such as you or me, most of us go on to the other side, just like normal people,” Ida said. “But sometimes one of us sticks around, like a ghost – just like if a normal person didn’t pass over, and stuck around. But – if it’s someone who’s gifted, and they made plans for the afterlife, they know how to do things. They’re not stupid, like most ghosts. There’s things you can do, if you’re gifted and you’re in that state – things we can’t do while we’re alive, as humans.”

  “This is what the man in Toquerville told you?” Marty asked skeptically.

  “Yes, and I’m giving you the benefit of what I learned, so don’t start with the attitude,” she snapped at Marty. She turned back to Winn.

  “So – it’s the ghost of a gifted person. And they prepared, they selected a place to haunt before they died. It’s a purposeful thing, by intention and design – they’re not just haunting a place because they died there, that kind of thing. They selected a place in advance, and they prepared to haunt it before they died. And once they actually die, they reside in that place, and they protect it by creating a vortex within it – something normal ghosts are too stupid to construct, or have no idea they could construct.”

  “A vorghost?” Marty asked.

  “That’s what he called it,” Ida replied. “Anyway, they’re all about power, and they use the vortex to concentrate power to keep them going. They operate at a much higher level of energy than a regular ghost, and it’s draining – it takes a lot to maintain. They have abilities that most of us don’t have, and it’s different for every vorghost – depends on what they specialized in during their life, and what they devote their accumulated power toward. But to keep going, they have to create and inhabit a vortex. It’s what keeps them alive. Well, alive in their state. They’re really dead, of course.”

  “You think this vorghost could get Brent to leave me alone?” Winn asked.

  “Well, it did the same for me,” Ida said, “got the one off my back. So it has that skill. And it’s willing to work with gifted people. I think if you were just some Tom, Dick, or Harry walking into the house, it would scare you away and not give you the time of day. Not that there’s likely to be any normal people there, anyway – the vortex creeps them out, gives them the willies, so they naturally stay away. But it’ll talk to you if you’re gifted, provided you do it right. And it can get rid of your friend for you. For a price, like I said.”

  “And I wouldn’t know what the price is?” Winn asked.

  “Not according to the man in Toquerville,” Ida said. “You’ll agree that it can take what it wants, you don’t get a say in the matter. It’ll look into you, and take something you value, something that has power, so it can add to its own. If you agree to the terms, it’ll get rid of the ghost. It’s a little frightening, so don’t freak out when it happens. And it’s not an even trade. The energy it expends to get rid of the ghost that’s bothering you is only a fraction of the power it will take from you, but that’s its profit margin, I guess. It’s not like we know how to do it, or we’d just do it ourselves, right?”

  “And it took something from you?” Winn asked. “Do you regret it?”

  “I might be dead if I hadn’t done it,” Ida said. “Dead or blind! No, I don’t regret it. But I’ve been dealing with the loss of what it took from me ever since. It’s made some things difficult.”

  “Can you tell me where the house is?” Marty asked. “In case Winn decides to use it.”

  “Sure, but you can’t just go barging in there,” she replied. “You have to do it right.”

  “And how is that?” Marty asked.

  “First of all, the vortex itself will creep you out, just like it impacts normal people, so you have to be ready for that. Load up on protection. The house looks dilapidated, but it isn’t some dump like a lot of ghosts haunt. The vorghost has it sealed up tight. The only way in is through a basement window in the back. You start there, and work your way up to the attic, where the vorghost lives – the highest point in the vortex. Once you get there, you can talk to the entity.”

  “Does it have a name?” Marty asked.

  “Not that I know of,” Ida said. “Oh, and, if you see anything floating off the ground, don’t go near it or touch it. I never saw anything floating myself, but the man in Toquerville warned me to avoid them. He seemed very concerned about it. If you touch the floating things, you’re screwed.”

  “Why?” Marty asked. “What kind of floating things?”

  “I don’t know,” Ida said. “But he said if you touch one, the vorghost would take it as a threatening move and never work with you on what you want. Just thought I’d pass it along. Who knows, you may never see it. Like I said, I didn’t see anything like that when I was in the house.”

  Marty turned to Winn. “What do you think? Flagstaff is four hours away. It would be a full day up there and back.”

  “I have a big game on Friday, and our coach is working us hard until then,” Winn said. “If I took a day off, he’d probably kill me.”

  “You’re a basket case as it is,” Marty said. “You might play better if we get this taken care of.”

  “I won’t be playing at all if coach is pissed at me,” Winn said. “We’d better go Saturday. No school or work. I don’t think my ratty car would make it, though. Can you go with me?”

  “Of course,” Marty said, smiling. “My Caddy has been in need of a road trip for quite a while now.”

&n
bsp; “Anything else I should know?” Winn said, turning back to Ida.

  “Nope, not really,” she said. “I’ve already told you about the risks. I didn’t even have to trance when I was in the house – the vorghost already knew I was gifted. Seemed to know why I was there. I expect it’ll be the same with you. Just don’t freak out with all the weird shit the vortex causes.”

  “Weird shit?” Winn asked.

  Ida nodded. “You’ll see.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “We lost, twenty-one to ten,” Winn said.

  “Well, at least it wasn’t a blow out,” Marty replied, steering the Caddy northward up I-17. It was early Saturday morning, and Marty had just picked up Winn from his trailer.

  “I have an ice chest in the back seat,” Marty said. “Loaded up.”

  “Looks like it might come in handy, too,” Winn said. “Supposed to be hot again today.”

  Tucson receded and flat, open desert began to fill all views, with Picacho Peak in the distance. Winn was tired and a little beaten up from the game, but he was more exhausted from overnight torment.

  “He was there again last night,” Winn said.

  “Oh?” Marty asked.

  “I felt something wet and warm in the bed, and I thought, ‘god, I hope I haven’t pissed myself!’ I woke up and saw something under the sheet, something big, down by my legs. At first I thought the Z-flies might have come back, but it was different. Larger. I threw off the sheet, and there was blood everywhere. And he was there, his face right at my calves. He would bite into me and rip off a piece of my flesh, then spit it out and bite another. His face was covered in blood. He looked crazy. Insane.”

  “Jesus Christ! What a horrible image! I can’t imagine it!”

  “I forced myself into the River and tried to talk to him, but he was just babbling as he chewed away at me. Couldn’t get him to speak coherently. When I came out of the flow, he was gone. No blood.”

  “That must have shaken you up!”

  “It was around four a.m. I couldn’t get back to sleep after that.”