by Anton Strout
“Easy,” I said. “Calm down.”
“I’ll calm down when I’ve got this mark off of me,” she snapped. “Not a second sooner.”
Allorah Daniels looked over at the Inspectre. “Go. I’ll try to take them to down to Holding again,” she said. “Then I’ll gather the Enchancellors to discuss what needs doing about this in the grand scheme of things. I can’t not report this threat of sea monsters to the board, but listen, Argyle. I know this thing with Professor Redfield is personal for you. If you want to handle this with any discretion before I drag them all into this, I suggest you and your people leave now.”
The Inspectre nodded. Allorah turned from him and headed out the door, leading the four bound students. Once she was gone, the Inspectre turned to me. “Is the boat ready?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said. “I’ve never built a giant spear or ram before, but it’s functional. It will hold.”
“Good,” he said.
Jane looked nervous. “So, now what?” she asked.
“From what Godfrey told me, you think Mason Redfield is in alignment with these creatures,” the Inspectre said, “that he traded his help in raising them for the secrets to youth for himself. Saddening, but I am heartened to hear that one of those is still somewhat dormant.”
“I hope,” I said. “For all I know, Professor Redfield’s been providing her with a student a day and George was just one on a long list of monster snack Lunchables. I don’t know how regular a feeding schedule Scylla is on, but Godfrey and I think the ceremony could possibly happen as early as tonight.”
“We should strike now,” Connor said, “before either the creature can rise or the overworked members of the Enchancellors bog this case down in red tape.”
The Inspectre checked his watch. “Meet me in half an hour at the docks,” he said. “I have a few things I need to take care of first for this. Things of a volatile nature.” Without another word, Argyle Quimbley left the room and Connor followed him out.
“Don’t worry,” I said, turning to Jane. “We’ll take care of this tonight.”
“Yes,” Jane said. “We will.”
“Wait, what?”
“I’m coming with you,” she said.
“Definitely not,” I said. “Not in this condition, not the way you were affected last time we were on the water out there.”
Jane slugged me in the arm. “Enough of the male macho bullshit,” she said. “I’m coming. This is happening to me. If there’s a chance we can get answers or do something about this thing, I need to be there. End of discussion.”
“Fine,” I said. “Hell hath no fury greater than a woman marked.”
30
Within the hour, the four of us had made our way back to the boat and headed out onto the East River as a heavy rain broke out over the city. All of us crammed into the boat’s small wheelhouse as the growing storm raged even heavier on the river, pitching our boat back and forth with the ferocity of an ocean voyage. Jane wanted to stay out in the storm, and even though I had pulled her in, she still stood by the cabin door with her head out in the rain, her hair soaking wet. It calmed her and kept her from freaking out too much, so I let it slide.
“You think the ram’s going to stay on?” I asked Connor, who was manning the wheel once again.
“I’m not worried about the ram,” he said.
“Oh, no?” I adjusted my Indiana Jones-style satchel out of the way as Jane ducked her head in and moved to stand closer to me.
“No,” he said. “I’ve got bigger things to think about, like keeping the rest of the boat together right now, at least until we get to the bridge. Then we get to worry about if this summoning ritual is really happening.”
Jane squeezed my arm. “I shouldn’t have come,” she said.
“Seasick?” I asked.
Jane shook her head. “No,” she said. “I know what I said in the office, but it was out of frustration. I just wanted this mark off of me so bad, but that was just plain selfish. I’m putting us all at risk again by being here. What if I can’t help but get sucked into her ritual?”
“Relax,” I said, rubbing her shoulders. “You won’t this time. You’re stronger than that.”
“I won’t relax,” she said, shrugging me off. “Last time we were out here, I could have killed you and Connor. Now I’ve got the Inspectre to worry about.”
“My dear,” the Inspectre added from the other side of the cabin where he held on to one of the interior railings to steady himself, “please don’t worry about me. I’ve dealt with greater horrors than what’s happening to you. Fear not. Rest assured we will get that woman in green to release her hold on you.”
Jane didn’t look too sure about that, but nodded anyway. “I hope so,” she said. “For Simon’s sake, if not mine.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “Even though I’ve dated a lot of girls in my time, you’d be my first aqua-woman.”
Connor shook his head. “Way to be reassuring, kid.”
“So, what’s the plan?” Jane asked, impatient. “I take it from the tarp on the front of the boat that we’re packing a little extra cargo this time.”
“A little insurance,” the Inspectre said. “Blasting caps, detonation cords, underwater charges, and a slurry composition of explosives . . .”
“Explosives?” Jane repeated. She turned to Connor at the wheel. “Can you control the roll of the ship a teensy bit more, please? I’d like to get to the bridge in one piece. Piece, as in singular.”
Connor cranked the wheel of the ship. “Believe me, no one’s going to be happier than me if we can keep the boat from capsizing,” he said, “but don’t worry. Those explosive materials need something a little more powerful than the roll of the ship to set them off.”
“Good,” Jane said, “but what are they for?”
“My idea,” the Inspectre said. “I read the report about unearthing those aqua-zombies. If we encounter any more, we’ll be able to take care of them this time.”
“Unearth?” Jane asked. “Don’t you mean unwater?”
“Whatever,” he said. “Either way, we’ll be ready for them.”
“Brilliant,” she said.
“That’s not the only reason,” Connor added at the wheel.
“No?” Jane asked.
“No,” I said. “Connor has a theory.”
He steadied the boat before looking over at us. “We blast up some of those sunken ships,” he said. “It may just help me in freeing up some of those spirits still lingering on the bridge that died at the hands of both those creatures.”
The Hell Gate Bridge came into sight though the pouring rain. The entire expanse was covered with a sea of ghosts, and out on the middle of the bridge was Professor Redfield himself.
“Looks like a double feature so far,” I said. “The ghosts of all the shipwrecks and the professor to boot.”
“Looks like we have a little company for me,” the Inspectre added.
“Crowded tonight,” Connor said. “When we get up there, mind your footing or prepare to be skunked by a ghost.”
“That’s the least of my worries,” Jane said.
“Just get us to the shore safely,” the Inspectre said. He clapped Connor on the shoulder and went back to staring out into the storm.
Connor angled toward Wards Island on our left, but he wasn’t heading for the docks we had landed at before.
“Where are you going?” I asked.
“Trying not to puncture a hole in your F.O.G.gie boat,” he said, wrestling with the wheel. “We’re going to need it if we can’t stop the ritual up on the bridge. If I go for that broken old dock, we’re going to tear apart with the roll of these waves. I’ve got to go for a deeper part along the shore. I’ll need you to jump off and secure us to something more solid.” He took one hand off the wheel and pointed off toward another section of Wards Island. “Those trees there, for instance.”
I ran out of the wheelhouse. The storm rained down on me and in sec
onds I was soaked though, but I was still determined. We needed to tie off. I ignored the sting of rain in my eyes and worked my way around the outside of the cabin to the casting line at the front of the boat. Connor brought up the left side of the boat against the shore, and when we were close enough, I leapt for it. I hit the ground and ran for the closest and heaviest tree I could find. I tied the line to it as best I could while Connor killed the engine and the three of them came ashore to the island.
I stared up at the underside of the Hell Gate Bridge and whistled.
“Well?” Jane asked.
“The climb looks treacherous,” I said, “especially in this downpour.” I looked over at the Inspectre, who was using his sword cane to steady himself as the last one coming off the boat. “You sure you don’t want to skip this part, sir?”
He picked up the cane and walked over to me without using it, but I noticed he was a little wobbly despite the brave face he put on. “Nonsense,” he said. He tucked the cane through his belt, wearing it like a sheathed sword as though he were a modern-day musketeer. “I’m old, not dead.”
“That’s the spirit,” Jane said.
The Inspectre smiled at her. “However,” he said, “why don’t the three of you start up first? This may take me a while.”
Without another word, I adjusted the strap of my satchel so it lay flat across my back for the climb and the rest of us started up the under skeleton of the bridge. The going was rough but thankfully my gloves kept my hands from slipping as I climbed. I reached the top first and pulled myself up onto the bridge itself. Far out in the center among the swirl of shuffling spirits, Mason Redfield was staring down into the water below, oblivious of our little group’s progress. Connor and Jane pulled themselves up next and the three of us waited for the Inspectre together, but he was taking forever. He was still only about halfway up the understructure. At this pace it would be morning before we could pull him up.
Out of the darkness behind him, something blurred into view, grabbing for him. The Inspectre let go of the bridge, but didn’t fall. Instead he and the other figure flew up the side of the bridge. They shot up past us, flying into an arc fifty feet over our heads until they both came down onto the bridge right in front of us. The professor landed, stumbling away from the figure carrying him, revealing Connor’s brother, Aidan. The vampire’s face was drawn and leathery from taking a form that could fly. Aidan almost lost his footing, but caught himself before he fell.
“Aidan?” I asked, running over to him.
The Inspectre turned to him. “Are you all right?”
Aidan nodded, his face returning to its more human state. “Fine,” he said. “Just a little too wet out tonight for my liking.”
“Thank you,” the Inspectre said. “For the ride. It was quite. . . invigorating.”
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
Connor walked over to us. “I called him, kid,” he said. “Thought the vamps might be helpful in all this.”
“Actually,” Aidan said, “not so much. We don’t really function well around water, remember? It’s why I skipped your boat ride and had a little trouble sticking my landing just now. But I’ll do what I can. I owe you guys for helping me get rid of that ghost.”
“Well, nice Superman entrance anyway,” I said. “Let’s just hope the water woman doesn’t get her green coloring from a Kryptonite infusion.”
“Funny,” Aidan said. “So glad I came out for this.”
“Thank you for joining us,” the Inspectre said. “Sincerely.”
Aidan smiled, baring his fangs.
“All right,” Connor said. “Enough. My brother’s going to get an even bigger head on his shoulders.”
“Is that possible?” I said.
“Gentlemen, concentrate,” the Inspectre snapped. The rest of us fell silent. “Now, then, we have to make sure Mason Redfield doesn’t escape. We need to surround him.”
Aidan stepped forward. “I’m on it,” he said. “I’ll block the other side of the bridge.” His features stretched back to his vampiric form once again. “Up, up, and away.”
Aidan leapt into the air like he was the Hulk bounding away.
“Let’s move in,” the Inspectre said.
“And quickly,” Connor added, heading out onto the bridge. “There’s no telling what my brother may or may not do.”
I grabbed Jane’s hand and headed after him and the Inspectre, who was already setting a brisk pace.
“Hey, if your brother brings down this woman in green and gets this mark off of Jane, I’ll bring him on a Hot Topic shopping spree myself,” I said.
“Quiet,” the Inspectre said, his mood darkening. Connor and I used foolishness as it had been described in the Departmental pamphlet entitled “Witty Banter to Ease Any Paranormal Situation.” I knew that personally it was what kept me from losing my mind and running off screaming on an hourly basis sometimes. Before I could say anything, the Inspectre had picked up his pace and moved ahead, closing in on his old friend. The sea of long-dead spirits parted out of the way as we went, drifting to and fro in their constant wait for a ship that would never come.
Mason Redfield stood at the edge of the bridge, staring down at the chopping waves far below. His hands held him in place as he leaned out over the side, rocking back and forth, totally unaware of our approach. Pushing him off would be so easy if I just took a running start from here. I let go of Jane’s hand and reached for my bat in its holster.
I worried that the click of extending it out might draw his attention, but I doubted he would be able to hear it over the whip of the wind and rain out at the center of the bridge. I needn’t have worried. Another sound caught his attention instead.
Aidan landed just on the other side of Mason, slamming down into the bridge, cracking a few of the slats. He came down hard, too hard, and looked a little stunned by the trouble he was having being exposed to so much water.
Mason spun around, and then noticed the rest of us crowding in on him. Faster than I expected, he reacted, pulling something out of his jacket.
“Crap,” I heard Connor say. “Gun!”
Fewer words inspired more panic in the Department than hearing someone was packing heat. Dealing with pedestrian weapons wasn’t really our area. Vampires and witches didn’t use them, and when I heard the word, I put myself in front of Jane.
Mason looked around him as we spread out to block any escape path he might try to take, all except the one down to the water below. If he wanted to try that hoping to survive the fall, he could be my guest.
“Everyone stop,” Mason shouted. “Now!”
Everyone on our side of the bridge stopped, but Aidan continued creeping forward on him, fangs bared.
“I said stop,” Mason repeated, and then cocked his head at Aidan as he noticed his teeth. “I’ve got something to stop you as well.” He reached into the collar of his shirt and brought out a wide assortment of chains, all of them with dangling pendants bearing different marks on them. Some of them were definitely religious, some absolutely foreign to me, but they were enough to stop Aidan in his tracks.
“Ever resourceful,” the Inspectre called out to him over the wind.
“It pays to be prepared,” Mason said. “I’m living proof.”
Aidan’s face twisted to its monster form. “What do you want me to do, little brother?” Aidan asked Connor. “I can still probably stop him . . .”
“Don’t,” I shouted. “I’m not going to risk Jane’s life on your ‘probably.’”
“Why are you doing this, Mason?” the Inspectre shouted.
“Why?” he asked. “I turned away from the Department years ago because the dark and secret horrors of this life were too much to bear. Only through teaching film did I revisit my love for all things horrifying, only in fictional form. Thanks to it, I learned why people love seeing scary movies. It’s a thrill, controlled fear without the actual chaos of it being real. Over time that morphed into something more, a darker fa
scination. . . I turned to the world of the documentary trying to capture the horrors of real life—in this case, the hundreds of deaths at the Hell Gate Bridge.”
“But why?” the Inspectre asked again. “Back in our day, you had everything in control. You were powerful. We were going to fight the good fight side by side.”
“You don’t understand,” Mason said. “Do you even remember the day I told you I was leaving the Department?”
The Inspectre paused in recall, but I stepped forward.
“I do,” I said. “That was the day you almost died, yes? There was a fissure in the earth of a graveyard, ghouls pouring out it—”
“Exactly,” Mason said, giving me a look of suspicion, “but how do you know that?”
I held my hands up and wiggled my fingers. “Psychometrist,” I said. “I let my fingers do the walking.”
“Fascinating,” he said. A spark of interest lit up on his face, the same spark of fascinated curiosity I had seen on it from the vision.
“Look,” I said. “I get it. I really do. For the Inspectre here, that day is but a distant memory, but for me? My powers made it seem like only yesterday. I’ve even felt how you feel. I know the panic you felt that day when you were nearly dragged down into the earth. I understand why you walked away from that life of risk. Hell, I have days in the office where I want to just throw the towel in, too.”
Mason was paying attention to me now. He stared at me like I was stupid. “So, why don’t you, then?” he asked
I shrugged. I wasn’t quite sure of the answer myself
“It’s not in his nature,” Jane said, speaking up in my defense.
Mason Redfield laughed at that. “Not yet, anyway,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?” I asked.
“How old are you?” Mason asked. “In your twenties still, yes?”
“What’s that got to do with it?” I asked.
“Everything,” he said, darkness thick in his voice. “I almost died that day you saw, and every day after that I wondered when the other shoe was going to drop. When was the grim reaper going to show up at my door? Over time it built, festered. . . and the years slipped by, age creeping up on me, robbing me of my strength, and I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe there was a way to cheat death. There had to be.”
