The Ravaging in Between (The Reanimation Files Book 3)

by A. J. Locke

  “What?” I demanded. “What did you find?”

  “It’s not about what I found,” Tielle said. “It’s about what I didn’t find.”

  “What the hell does that mean?”

  “Your ghost, Selene. Soul, spirit, whatever you want to call it. Part of it…is missing.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Now it was my turn for my mouth to fall open in shock. I sat up and faced Tielle, staring at the rune in her hand, then back to her face.

  “Kindly explain what the hell you mean by part of my soul is missing.”

  Tielle shook her head. “I’ve never heard of such a thing. A part of your soul is gone, there is just dead space where it should be. I have a strong feeling it got left behind on the other side when you were revived.”

  I frowned. Hard. “Gone. Part of my soul is gone. Left behind in the Afterlife. So what does that mean, like if my ghost was to hop out of my body it’d be missing a leg or something?”

  “I’m not sure how to explain how it would look. Just trust me when I say that your soul is not all there.”

  I sat back against Tielle’s desk, feeling confused and more than a little afraid. “What does it mean that part of my soul is gone? What’s going to happen to me?”

  “It means that you should not be alive, to be frank,” she replied. “You cannot survive with your soul missing pieces. That you are alive and even woke up from a coma is something I cannot explain, but am amazed by. Also, I’m pretty sure it explains why that knife didn’t drop you. This is also something I am not sure I can explain with a hundred percent clarity, but if part of your ghost is on the other side, linking you to the world of the dead, it could explain your resistance to serious injury. Something along the lines of you can’t kill what’s already dead.”

  “But I’m not dead.”

  “But you were, and part of you still is.” Tielle stood up, and offered me her hand. Normally I’d refuse it, but I felt sort of boneless at the moment. She helped me up and I sat down on the chair again. Tielle returned the rune to its box, and then sat down behind her desk.

  “This isn’t going to sound like the most intelligent question, but do you remember anything from when you were dead?”

  I frowned and racked my brain for any memory associated with being on the other side. So far my memories consisted of the showdown on the bridge right up until I pulled the trigger, and opening my eyes in the hospital and seeing Micah. But I had to admit that there had been something tugging at the back of my mind, like I was trying to remember something that I couldn’t.

  When I had caught sight of that ghost staring at me in the Underground, the tug had become stronger. I had the strangest feeling that I knew him, but not from anywhere in my lifetime. My brain scans at the hospital had cleared me from any memory loss. So was that a hallucination of someone I encountered while I was dead? Would it even be possible for me to remember being on the other side? I had recently learned that pretty much anything was possible, but this still seemed very far outside the realm of possibilities.

  “No memory is coming to me, but I have been having a strange feeling like my brain wants me to remember something I can’t access. Maybe it has to do with when I was dead. Would I really be able to remember that?”

  “There hasn’t been anything like this on record so I can’t say for sure. That’s why I asked,” Tielle said. “The answer would have to come from you. Either you’ll remember something, or you won’t.”

  “You’re banking on me remembering because it could explain what the hell happened to part of my soul, right?”

  “Yes. Pieces of someone’s soul don’t just go missing. Something must have happened to you while you were on the other side.”

  “This is overwhelming.” I shook my head. “I should be used to things like this happening to me by now, yet I am surprised every time.”

  “Your problems do tend to end up on the very unique side.”

  “Yeah, all the one-of-a-kind, unheard-of things happen to Selene. I’m a lucky girl.” I stood up. “I guess I’ll go home and let this all sink in. I appreciate the help.”

  “You should talk it over with Micah,” Tielle said. “He may not know more than I do, but it could help you stay calm about it.”

  “Ah, Micah. I knew there was one more thing I wanted to talk to you about. He told me you suggested that he come work here.”

  “Micah is very adept with rune work, and I know he learned a lot from his uncle. Renton was one of our top rune scientists, and it benefits us to still have his knowledge around in some way or another. There is good that can come from rune experimentation.”

  “I would have thought that you of all people would be clamoring to shut the program down. It could not have been a good look when the public realized that you all had no idea who Renton really was and what he was capable of doing.”

  “No,” Tielle said. “And damage control is still ongoing. Our image is forever tarnished, that much I have to accept, but what I don’t have to accept is defeat. I could have let the program crumble, yes, but I think it has proved to be too beneficial to do away with altogether. Renton was just one individual within the department. He was a top scientist, yes, but he was not the only one. I do not think it wise to shut down and render these people jobless over the actions of one rogue. Not all of Alchemy’s accomplishments stemmed from Renton. The government and the Paranormal Sector have recognized this and were willing to back us following a complete restructure, which includes more rigorous screening of the people that work for us.”

  “I see.” What she said made a lot of sense. I was only looking at it from my perspective and the one individual who directly affected me, so it was hard to be objective on the topic. I guess I’d need to see Alchemy do something spectacularly good in order to even attempt accepting it.

  “I know you don’t like this…”

  “No. I don’t like Micah still being involved with Alchemy, I feel it will haunt him more than heal him. As it still haunts me. He did mention though, that part of working for you was so that the Paranormal Sector could keep their thumb on him.”

  “Yes, that is part of it. Micah on his own—while I am not saying he would do anything like what Renton did—would be too much of a wild card for the Sector’s comfort.”

  “I get it. But I still don’t like it. It just keeps things muddled when I’d like them to be a whole lot clearer.”

  “I’m sorry,” Tielle said. “I hope eventually you will come to have a different opinion.”

  “I guess time will tell.” I headed for the door. “Let me know if you come across anything that would shine some light on this missing soul thing.”

  “I will.” Tielle walked me to the door and briefly laid her hand on my shoulder, which was a step up from a handshake, I guess. We said good-bye and I made my way out of the building.

  Ilyse she was not, but she was the only wise, powerful dead witch I had access to, so I’d just have to hope she could help me.

  CHAPTER TEN

  Now that I had made a full recovery, Micah was back to work full-time. Even though he had just started working with the RDD, they had allowed him to have enough time to sit with me while I was comatose, and be with me the first few weeks after waking up. Now I would be seeing less of him.

  Part of me was OK with that, since things were so conflicted with us. A little space wouldn’t hurt. I did not tell him what happened in the Underground, or about my visit to Tielle and what had been concluded from it. I just felt reserved about pouring all my problems out and letting him try to comfort or help me.

  So since Micah wasn’t around the next day, I spent the entire morning and early afternoon looking for Ethan. I was tempted to put up fliers, but figured “missing ghost” fliers would garner more joke calls than serious ones.

  Once again, my search was a bust. When I got home I fed Luna, then flopped onto the couch to watch TV, hoping it would distract me from feeling down in the dumps over Ethan. It didn’t. I
felt restless, and lounging around the house wasn’t going to help.

  I needed to clear my head.

  My stomach growled.

  And eat.

  I made myself a turkey sandwich, then changed into some workout clothes: a long sleeved compression shirt and long, active-wear bottoms. I threw on a fleece pullover, since it was cold out. After a quick stretch, I put a sweater and doggy shoes on Luna, then leashed her up and headed out. She was all too happy to go for a run with me. I was into staying fit, maybe slightly less than I was into eating takeout every night, but hadn’t had much time to pay attention to my gym membership. But now that I had to build my strength back, I’d have to find time to fit some exercise in. Eventually I’d make it back to the gym.

  I found myself running the way I used to go when Ethan and I took Luna for a walk. I felt a pang of sadness. If losing the ghost of my friend hurt this much, I couldn’t imagine how much it would hurt to lose a living person I loved. I stopped running as I realized that there was someone who knew exactly how that felt.

  Micah. For those two minutes that I had died.

  I shook my head and started to run again. My chest felt tight, but not from anything the running was doing to me. As hard as it was to come to a place of forgiveness with Micah, it was equally hard for him. I wasn’t at all sure that I could forgive him had I been on the other side of those two minutes.

  Damn it, I had gone for a run to clear my head from these thoughts, not use them as my soundtrack. I turned the volume up on the music I’d been barely listening to and sang along in my head to force my thoughts elsewhere. By the time Luna and I were running back, I was sweaty, my legs burned, and I had sang through a couple playlists. I felt calmer and clearer, though I had a sneaking suspicion that it would not last.

  As Luna and I walked up to the front door and I took my earbuds out, I paused when I heard a noise behind me. When I turned around, a middle-aged woman was approaching with an apprehensive look on her face. I was immediately on alert and wished I had my rune gun on me. Was I trigger-happy enough to shoot anyone who approached me? No, but given the state of my life I couldn’t be too careful.

  “Um, Ms. Vanream?” She stopped a few feet away. She was on the heavyset side, had a short, face framing haircut, and features that made me feel as though there were strong family traits, and she and a lot of her relatives looked very similar.

  “Selene,” I said. “Who are you and what do you want?”

  “My name is Glenda Whittle,” she said. “I was wondering if you could help me with something.”

  “Something like what?” I picked Luna up because she was straining against her leash to go investigate the newcomer.

  “Um.” Glenda looked around nervously as she wrung her hands together. “I have a ghost problem. At least, I think I do. And with the things I know you’ve dealt with recently, I think you’re the only person who can help me.”

  “Give me the details, Glenda,” I said impatiently. “I am none too happy about strangers approaching me for help at my home.”

  “Well, I went to Affairs of the Dead, but was told you no longer worked there,” Glenda said. “The young lady behind the front desk was kind enough to give me your address.”

  I bristled. Thanks, Amy.

  “All right, but you still haven’t told me what you think I can help you with.”

  “It’s my husband, Harvey,” Glenda said. “I think…I think that a ghost from his past is trying to kill him.”

  “Come again?”

  “Let me explain.” She took a deep breath, and continued to twist her hands. “Harvey works at a construction supply warehouse in Red Hook. He’s been there for a long time, but it doesn’t pay that well. About seven years ago, we fell on hard times. His mother was ill and needed surgery, I had lost my job, and we were trying to put our oldest through college. We tried to manage, but it wasn’t long before we were in danger of losing our home. So as a last resort, Harvey went to a loan shark named Grant Pano. He loaned Harvey a large sum of money, and we were able to sort out our finances, but when it came time to repay it we weren’t yet in a position to do so and Grant wouldn’t give us more time. He came after my husband at his job and attacked him. During the scuffle, Harvey grabbed a utility knife and stabbed him. He…he killed him.”

  “Whoa,” I said. “He killed Grant?”

  “In self-defense!” Glenda said. “He wasn’t convicted, it was deemed self-defense. But Grant’s ghost rose, and the ghost agency that worked with him found out that his unfinished business was to hurt my husband. So they used a necromancer circle to send him to the Afterlife. But now…now Grant is back!”

  “How could he be back?” I asked. “If he was circled away, that shouldn’t be possible. Do you have proof?”

  “A few days ago my husband started to feel as though he was being watched. Then he started to see Grant lurking around. It freaked him out. He thought he was going crazy. I did too—I mean I thought he was stressed out from working so much and his mind was playing tricks on him. But then he got a picture…”

  She took out her cell phone and held it up to me. The picture wasn’t very clear because there hadn’t been good lighting when it was taken, but I did make out the image of a man. He was of medium height, kind of on the heavy side, balding, and looked mean. And it was clear that he was a ghost. He had the glow and everything. I also saw the energy rune around his neck, which is the only reason he was able to be photographed. Without energy runes to make them visible and tangible, ghosts don’t show up in pictures.

  “Harvey took this picture two days ago,” Glenda said. “He says it’s definitely Grant.” She flipped to another picture on her phone and showed it to me. This one was much clearer and not of a ghost. “That’s what Grant looked like when he was alive. Isn’t it the same person?”

  “It looks like it…” I was frowning as I looked at the picture, because it did, in fact, look like the ghost in the previous picture. Exactly like him. But assuming everything Glenda had just said was true—that Grant’s ghost had been circled away years ago—just how the hell was he back here?

  “Look, Glenda, I’m not saying I believe you and I’m not saying I don’t, but what exactly do you expect me to do about any of this?”

  “Help my husband, please!” she said. “Talk to him directly, he can verify everything I’ve told you. I’m afraid that it’s only a matter of time before Grant makes a move on him and do what he wanted to do when his ghost first rose. I don’t know how he’s back here and I don’t really care. I thought that nightmare was over but it’s back to haunt us. Please help!”

  I sighed. She made it look convincing with her tears, hysterical words, and picture proof. But I wasn’t keen on potentially putting myself in harm’s way for no reason.

  “I tried to go to the Paranormal Task Force, but they turned me away,” Glenda said. “I tried ghost agencies to see if they could have one of their necromancers try to track down Grant and capture him, but they turned me away too. Even the one that worked with him all those years ago. I have no one else to turn to if you do the same.”

  I sighed again. Why did I get the feeling that I was going to try and help this woman? Damn my good nature. Save the city from a few psychos and all of a sudden, it’s like an addiction.

  “Where is Harvey right now?”

  “At work. He said he has to work late today, here’s the address.” She handed me a piece of paper.

  Well, damn, it’s like she just knew I’d help her.

  “I’ll go talk to him, but I’m not making you any promises. I especially am not promising that I’m gonna go track down some ghost with vengeance on the brain who shouldn’t even be here.”

  Her face lit up anyway. “Oh thank you, Selene, thank you so much.”

  “Don’t thank me yet, I haven’t done anything.” We exchanged numbers so we could stay in contact.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me…”

  “Yes, of course, I’ll be on my way
now. I am so grateful that you would even try. Thank you so much.” She tearfully left, and I headed inside to try and talk myself out of this.

  * * *

  About an hour after meeting with Glenda, I was driving off to the address on the piece of paper she’d given me.

  The self-talk hadn’t worked. I was just too curious about this whole thing to not look into it further. Especially when I did some online research. There was a public directory of all the ghosts that had been registered with a ghost agency, and even though it didn’t indicate what their unfinished business was for privacy reasons, it did say whether or not they faded naturally or were sent over through a necromancer circle.

  I’d found Grant Pano, and like Glenda had said, he’d been circled away seven years ago by the Dead but Not Done ghost agency. I also saw the picture she’d shown me among the pictures in his public file. If I had a ghost problem on my hands, it certainly wasn’t the run-of-the-mill kind. Then again, with me, when was it ever?

  I was driving through Red Hook, to an area near the Brooklyn/Queens Expressway that was mostly occupied by warehouses. It was just past sunset so it was getting dark, and the people I saw looked like they were on their way home.

  When I got to the right block, I parked and walked about halfway down to where Harvey’s warehouse was. The wide pull-down door was partially open. I ducked and entered. Once inside, I stood up and took a moment to look around. The warehouse was vast and full of building materials: large sheets of metal, beams, bricks, and such. There were also forklifts and other equipment. I didn’t see anyone.

  My first instinct was to call out for Harvey, but as I was drawing breath to do so, I heard something. There were sounds coming from the back. It sounded like a scuffle.

  Now, I could fall into my old ways and just run into whatever was going on there and end up in a lot of trouble, or I could be smart and take precautions. I voted for the latter.