Checkmate

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Checkmate Page 4

by Michael D. Britton


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  That night, the two men left the house. Lynche had armed his shoulder weapon with a sample fragment of the ecto-nuke’s core, enabling it to do the same thing as the bomb, but on a portable and more targeted level.

  It didn’t take long to run into one of the banshee-like ghosts. It came flying at the pair at high speed, screaming maniacally.

  Lynche took aim and fired without hesitation.

  The ghoulish ghost stopped in its tracks, seemingly frozen. Then it shimmered a little, convulsed slightly, and a look of lucidity and comprehension appeared on its white face. Its eyes seemed clear, and it was not screaming or gnashing its teeth anymore.

  “What on earth has happened to me?” the ghost asked.

  “You were under a Voodoo hex,” said Morphy kindly, acting as liaison to his own kind. “We’ve freed you. Try, if you will, to return to your realm. Go on,” he encouraged the ghost, “you may go home.”

  The ghost looked momentarily bewildered, then a look of comfort and joy crossed its features. It closed its eyes, exhaled, and its whole form suddenly contracted into a tiny ball of light – a mere speck of intense brightness, before vanishing into the earth with a tiny popping sound.

  Morphy was exuberant.

  “It worked! It worked!”

  A gang of about fifty crazed ghosts rushed around the corner and came at them.

  “Fire again!” Morphy exclaimed.

  “I can’t!” yelled Lynche, turning to run. “That one shot used all my power. I’m out of juice!”

  The two fled back toward the mansion.

  Narrowly escaping the wave of attacking apparitions, Lynche dove into the house, penetrating the invisible shield and reaching safety just in time.

  Morphy entered using the shield code, but as he was much faster, he was able to make it without a problem.

  “That was a close one,” Lynche said, leaning over as he caught his breath.

  “Yes,” said Morphy. “But it was a resounding success.”

  “What’s next?” asked Karla.

  “Now, we deploy the bomb,” said Lynche.

 

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