One girl student two ahead of Jessica appeared fixated by some of the tube specimens, her eyes reflecting the glow from the electric forks.
‘And do they have special powers or anything? Like can leap over tall buildings or throw people fifty yards?’
Josh Eskovitz smiled dryly at her. ‘Somebody might notice something
like that.’
Ellis nodded. ‘Like I said, nothing untoward. These are fallen-from-grace spirits. So they're useless without a body to function. But they're also then limited by that body's physicality. The most you'll get is some extra physical strength – like when you hear about PCP addicts needing five cops to pin them down.’ He paused, as if struck by an afterthought. ‘Or extra mental astuteness: invariably the murderers and master-criminals we find hardest to apprehend.’
TWENTY-ONE
Bruno Teischen decided to keep the same venue for his next meeting, so arranged to meet hitman Vince Lupas at his downtown cigar club.
After lighting up, Teischen slid a folder across the table with details and a photo of the target.
As Lupas opened it, he raised an eyebrow. ‘Won’t be easy.’
‘No. That’s why your name was suggested.’ Teischen blew out a plume of smoke. ‘And that’s why the high fee.’
Lupas said nothing, sank back into reading the file. Teischen gestured.
‘For obvious reasons, no possible trace back to me. In fact, best that it looks like an accident.’
‘I understand.’ Lupas looked up finally, eased out his breath. ‘Looks like he has some risky hobbies.’
‘He does at that.’ Teischen tapped his cigar. ‘Good Cubans, no?’
As Jules Mentinck came to the end of another holo-pod session, some students compared their sketch pad images to the newly created lab demon still displayed on it – Dalimus.
The class had returned from the ‘containment facility’ late the night before and so had been given the morning off to make notes before resuming lessons.
A boy no more than thirteen raised his hand. ‘And what's that crazy gibbering noise all about when we see these demon auras?’
‘It's meant to represent all the voices of the numerous people they've inhabited over the years. You've probably more commonly heard it referred to as 'Speaking in tongues'.
Mentinck surveyed the class, a glint of recognition dawning on some of them after a second. Jessica nodded.
‘So foreign languages too?’
‘Yes. Latin, Akkadian, Hebrew, Elamite... Oscan. Don't forget, we're talking thousands of years here – and even ancient English was very different to now.’
A female student a row behind Jessica lifted her pen. ‘You said before about them 'bailing out' when their subject's dying. But what if there's nobody else they can jump to within thirty yards?’
‘Not only just nobody – but also 'susceptible' to being inhabited. That vulnerability or dark edge I mentioned earlier.’ Mentinck grimaced. ‘But if there's no possible receptor nearby at that crucial moment, then they end up going to Erebus – their spirit limbo – for forty years before they can return.’
Ryan was pensive for a moment. ‘And is there anything that will stop us being able to view these apparitions in people?’
‘As you know from our past lessons, that ability will eventually fade.’ Mentinck looked towards the side glass, suddenly struck with a thought. ‘But if you're talking in the short term, there is perhaps something I could show you.’
Suddenly animated, he left the classroom, a faint hubbub rising behind him. He’d planned to show the class in any case in two lessons time, but since the question had come up now, no harm in changing the order of play. As he knew from his years of lecturing, capturing student’s attention was half the battle: strike while the iron was hot.
He found what he was looking for in the second lab-locker along: it appeared like a standard Kevlar vest, except that strapped around its waist was a flat battery pack. He turned to the nearest technician.
‘This one okay and ready to go?’
‘Yeah. Finished the tests yesterday and fully recharged it.’
‘Thanks.’
The class looked up with curiosity as he re-entered the classroom and strapped on the vest.
‘Something we've been working on the past few years – experimenting with what might impede 'viewing'. He pressed a button on the pack and the vest crackled with visible energy forks for a few seconds, then settled. ‘It creates a force-field that blocks the aura and related sound. But it's only at the prototype stage: the battery packs last only sixty hours between recharges.’ Mentinck looked round the classroom. ‘So in answer to your question: no. This sort of protection doesn't exist out there. If they're there to be seen – you'll see them!’
As Vince Lupas exited Teischen’s cigar club, he didn’t notice the FBI monitoring van across the road.
The two operatives inside the van watched him walk across the road on their screen, and the same view fed in turn to the Blind School central ops room.
Ellis Kendell and Josh Eskovitz looked between the live image of Lupas and those of Culverton on an adjacent screen leaving the same club two days before.
‘Another face I wouldn't like to meet on a dark night – Vince Lupas,’ Josh commented. ‘Looks like putting a tail also on Teischen has paid dividends.’
‘Another piece of the puzzle.’
‘Unless it was just a coincidence. He was meeting someone else in there.’
Ellis smiled his indulgence. ‘One thing you quickly learn from working in this section. Your belief in those quickly goes.’
Frank Lyle had been searching through the past day’s security cam videos for almost an hour when on screen he picked out the girl in the classroom.
His thoughts drifted back to the group of girls he’d seen across the inter-section from his van that day. And as his mind’s eye panned across the four girls with sunglasses he’d returned to view the other day, he hit a match with the girl on screen.
He leant closer, zooming in on the girl’s face until it filled the screen.
The aircraft hangar was large and cavernous, only a quarter of it occupied by two small turbo-props to one side. The skydiving instructor’s voice echoed as he addressed the class.
‘Okay. Eight of you for the jump tomorrow. And I'd like to welcome to the group, Jack Latham.’
The group dutifully look in Latham's direction, among them John Culverton.
They nodded, smiled and said ‘hi’, and Vince Lupas reciprocated:
‘Hi, there.’
The instructor picked up again:
‘But a few things to run through for tomorrow – not least what sort of visibility and wind shift we’re probably looking at.’
The next night after leaving Blind School, Ryan and Jessica stopped off at a cafe. He reached across the table and touched her hand.
‘You gonna be okay tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, sure.’ She opened her bag, reminding herself of the sequence as she touched the bottles. ‘Got it all worked out: pills, eyedrops... drops, pills... shit!’ Her expression fell.
‘What is it?
‘I... I think I left my inhaler back in the school washrooms. Had a little panic attack there.’
‘It's okay. I'll run you back.’
‘Are you sure?’
‘No problem.’
They knocked back their coffees and walked towards a Ford Focus that looked like it had come out the wrong side of Pimp-My-Ride ten years back.
Jessica smiled as they approached it, and couldn’t resist breaking into a chuckle as it let loose with a couple of backfires halfway back to the school. Ryan leered.
‘Don't knock it, okay. It's a first car.’
But Jessica's smile was mellow rather than mocking.
‘It's okay. We've got this spoilt-bitch friend whose got a brand-new Mercedes Kompressor. And I was actually thinking how nice and cute this was in comparison.’
Ryan looked at her askew
. ‘Nice? Cute? In comparison to a Mercedes Kompressor?’ He shook his head. ‘You're a strange girl at times, Jessica Werner.’
But Ryan's return smile was equally warm and mellow.
When they got back to the school, the Day-Guard was still on duty. He watched Ryan's car approach the gates and buzzed to let him in.
As on-screen Ryan’s car swung into the car park, Frank Lyle peeped his head into the monitoring room. The day-guard looked towards him.
‘I'll just see what these guys want, then I'm outta here.’
‘Okay. I’ll hang on.’
‘This what you’re looking for?’ the day guard asked as he took the inhaler out of the locker. It had taken only a minute to check what had been handed in that day.
‘Yes... yes. Thank you.’ Jessica took the inhaler and put it in her pocket.
‘Cleaner found it just an hour ago.’
Jessica nodded and Ryan echoed, ‘Yeah, thanks.’
‘Not a problem. Just press the green button by the main door and I'll buzz you out from here.’
He closed the locker as they headed out.
But as Ryan and Jessica turned into the next corridor along, Frank Lyle was towards its end.
It took Jessica a moment to realize what she was seeing, slot the image into place as again she got a mind's eye flashback. Though it wasn’t until Lyle half-turned towards them, as he had that day by her school, that she was sure.
She gripped Ryan's arm to hold him back, and they slipped back round the corner out of sight.
‘It's him!’ she hissed under her breath.
‘Who?’
‘The guy I told you about that I saw by his van that day.’
They were both whispering urgently now. Ryan's eyes shifted between the guard's direction and Jessica as he tried to make some sense of it.
‘Did you see any apparition in him now?’
Jessica applied thought for a moment, looked perplexed.
‘No.’
‘And neither did I.’
Ryan saw her still battling to comprehend. He put a calming hand on her shoulder.
‘Relax. Just someone who looks like him. Otherwise you'd have seen something now as well.’
‘Yeah, yeah. Suppose you’re right. It’s nothing.’ Her expression eased and she gave a tight smile. ‘Starting to see demons where they don’t exist.’
It took the ATF operator three plays of the same section of tape before he realized he’d hit something significant. He beckoned Brent Cohburn over.
‘Think you should hear this.’ He hit play as Cohburn approached. John Culverton's came over on the tape:
‘Hi, Tom... yeah. You're in the marquee now?’
‘Sorry. I can't hear you with all this jet noise. Meet me in the marquee.’
‘You’re there now?’
Nothing but static and the sound of jets overhead came over.
Cohburn looked at the recorder blankly for a second, and the operator prompted, ‘I think it’s a standard response. I don’t think Collard was ever there.’
Cohburn nodded after a second, his face stony. He picked up the phone.
‘Yeah... okay. Difficult to hear with all this going on. I'm on my way...’
After hearing Cohburn’s theory on the phone, Ellis Kendell had the sound-file e-mailed over and listened to it with Josh Eskovitz. Ellis gestured towards Josh.
‘Play it from the beginning again.’
Josh brought the sound loop up again on screen, clicked ‘play’. The first part was an automated message, then Tom Collard’s voice.
‘Incoming call from Tom Collard. Press button one to receive it.’
Bleep.
‘Hi, John. I'm at the air show. Can you meet me in the marquee?’
‘Hi, Tom... yeah. You’re in the marquee now?’
Ellis nodded and Josh stopped it again.
‘Okay. John hits button one and activates whatever bag of tricks Alex has set up to control the aircraft.’
Josh nodded. ‘Presumably why the last part mocked up as Tom Collard is a 'fit anything' response.’
‘Yeah. He says he can’t hear because of all the noise from the air-show, so it wouldn’t have mattered what was said the other end.’ Ellis lapsed into thought. ‘And where did Cohburn get hold of the recording?’
‘Sent in anonymously. He reckons it came from a competitor. Though they don't like to admit it, they scan calls at events like this to pick up what the competition might be up to.’
Ellis smiled thinly. ‘And aside from the usual dirty tricks with arms dealing, one of them finally developed a conscience.’
TWENTY-TWO
Jessica looked in the bathroom mirror as she swilled back the two pills with some water. She picked up the eye-drops and read the label, reminding herself of the sequence and timing, then slipped the bottle into her bag.
Her thoughts were still on what lay ahead at the doctors through breakfast. Her and Ben sat at the dining table and their mom in her armchair at the side of the room.
Jessica brought herself out of a half-daze as she noticed Ben look up from his bowl of Cocoa Krispies towards his school-bag.
‘It’s okay,’ she said. ‘I already packed everything in the there: lunch and a chocolate bar, coke...’
‘... Dragonoid?’
Jessica rolled her eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah – dragonoid too.’ She checked her watch and knocked back the last of her coffee. ‘Sorry. Got to leave twenty minutes early today for something.’
Their mom looked over, cut in: ‘You got everything and know where it is?’
‘Yeah, yeah. Belmont Street. Catch the 371 just a few blocks away.’ She looked back at Ben. ‘And don't forget, wait for Errol to come by. Don't walk to school on your own.’
Ben nodded as Jessica grabbed her bag.
‘Good luck!’ Mrs Werner called out.
‘Yeah. Good luck,’ Ben echoed.
Said as if he had no idea what was going on, but felt he should well-wish in any case. Jessica felt something tug inside her as she was reminded of the duplicitous game she was playing with her family. She stepped over and Ben a quick goodbye hug.
But as his head nestled in her shoulder, he whispered: ‘It's okay. I know the secret. You don't have to keep it to yourself any more.’
‘What?’ A sharp jolt ran through her as she pulled back and stared at Ben.
But her mom was approaching, she couldn’t pursue it. Her eyes shifted uncomfortably between Ben and her mom, then with a quick forced smile to hopefully cover, she headed out.
‘Bye y'all.’
Frank Lyle sat in his grey van and watched Jessica shut the door behind her as she left her home a hundred yards ahead.
But she seemed oblivious to all else, her eyes set dead ahead as she headed away from him along the road.
He edged out and started following.
Jessica's head span with Ben's last words: I know the secret.
Her thoughts pounded in time with her step: surely he couldn’t have found out. And if he had, how? She’d been so careful to keep everything from him.
She knew that she should wait until after the doctor’s appointment to talk to Ben, could do without the agitation beforehand – but in the end it was burning too hot through her mind. At the next cross-street, she memory-dialled her home number.
After three rings her mother answered: ‘Hello.’
‘Mom. Is Ben still there?’
‘Uh... yes.’
Jessica picked up the questioning tone: you walked out the door only a moment ago?
‘Can you put him on? Just some toy he asked me to get – I forgot its name now.
A faint rustling as her mom lifted the phone away, then:
‘Ben! It's Jessica. Something about a toy.’
The sound of Ben scampering across the room and more rustling as he took the phone from his mom.
‘Yeah?’
‘Is mom still close by?’
‘Uh... yes.’
‘Can
you move away from her a bit?’
‘Why?
‘There... there's something I need to talk to you privately about. Okay?’
‘What's that?’
‘Just do it?’
At the other end, Ben was unnerved by his sister's tone, hadn't heard her like this before – but he did as told and moved away. Though picking up on his expression, his mom's eyes stayed on him as he shifted into the hallway.
Realizing she’d been snappy, Jessica's tone instantly softened.
‘I'm sorry Ben – it's just that...’ She was slightly out of breath now – walking and talking at the same time, along with the agitation of what Ben might know. ‘That secret you mentioned earlier. What secret did you mean, Ben? What secret?’
Ben paused for a second, seemed slightly flustered.
‘Uh... The fact that you're bunking off from your real school – you know, to go to this other school with these other kids that might also be going blind.’
A wave of relief swept over Jessica. ‘Oh... Ben.’
‘But you're going to be okay... I know it!’
‘Ben... whatever would I do without you?’ She bit at her lip, holding back the tears as her eyes welled up. ‘And, yeah - I'm going to be okay. See ya later.’
She was still riding that wave of elation as she clicked off, so was a second slow seeing the van swing in behind her. She caught only a faint flicker of movement, half-turning towards it as a cloth was clamped over her mouth.
The smell of ammonia hit high in her synapses, darkness swilling in like a rapid tide.
Tommy Rawlton had slightly more warning as he walked along a Cedar Falls sidewalk, because the approaching car screeched to an abrupt halt as it swept in alongside him.
‘Shiiit.... what the?’
He caught only a half glimpse of his assailant as he was grabbed from behind. One hand went across his face partly obscuring his vision, but he then realized there were two of them as he felt himself being lifted and carried.
Blind School Page 10
