Location, Location, Damnation

by Nick Moseley

  The old man himself was sitting at his desk, studying some sort of report that he'd been halfway through reading when Trev arrived. He'd asked if he could finish it before they started chatting, which Trev was happy to let him do. Oscar, his left front leg in a plaster cast, was sleeping in his basket in the corner. The cat had opened one eye and acknowledged Trev with a nod as he entered, before dozing off again. Trev suspected that Granddad's furry companion was on his own course of painkillers.

  'All right, good,' said Granddad, finishing the report and placing it on the desk. 'How have you been, Trevor?'

  'I've had the whole week off work,' Trev replied, indicating his injured limbs. 'Told them I fell down the stairs.'

  Granddad nodded. 'I'm glad to hear you've been resting. You deserve to, after all that's happened.' He tapped the sheaf of paper in front of him. 'This is the Custodians' report on what they found at Kolley's house. They were rather surprised to find that someone had been able to build a working Funkelay Cage without them hearing about it.'

  'I bet,' said Trev. 'What are they going to do with it?'

  'It's already been destroyed. All the occult books and journals have been confiscated and the second cellar sealed off again.'

  Trev shifted in his chair. 'They're not messing about, are they? What's the outlook for Kolley himself?'

  'Physically he's absolutely fine.' Granddad shuffled through the pages of the report. 'No brain damage as such either, but his memory's gone. I mean completely gone. He has no recollection of his life whatsoever before waking up on his cellar floor with a headache.'

  Trev grimaced. 'So no chance of him spilling the beans on his accomplice then.'

  'At the moment, no.' Granddad spread his hands. 'He may recover, though, who's to say?'

  'Maybe, but I'm not holding my breath. I suppose KolleyCo will go to the wall now as well.'

  'Not necessarily. Alastair's running of the company was a bit more… idiosyncratic than his father's, and I think that was one of the reasons they started to struggle. The board will take over now and they might be able to stabilise things in his absence.'

  Trev smiled. 'Oh good. At least my discount card won't go to waste.'

  'You must be tremendously relieved.'

  'You've no idea,' Trev laughed. His expression turned serious again. 'So have the Custodians got any ideas on Kolley's helper?'

  'Not that I know of,' Granddad admitted. 'I've given them as much help as I can, which isn't a lot. They want to speak to you as well, of course. They weren't very happy that I let you leave before they got there. I asked them to leave you alone for the time being, to give you a little recovery time, but you ought to have a word with them as soon as you feel up to it. While it's all still fresh in your mind.'

  Trev nodded without enthusiasm. 'Yeah, I will. Not that I think I can add anything to what you've already told them.' He sighed. 'It's not a comforting thought, knowing that someone out there wants you dead.'

  'I can imagine.'

  'Answer me this, though. Why go to all the hassle of summoning a demon? If they wanted to kill me, why not just walk up behind me on a dark street and ventilate me with a big knife? Or run me over with a bus? Or blow my head off with a shotgun? Or set fire to my–’

  'All right, that'll do,' said Granddad, holding up his hands. 'The same question has occurred to me as well. I think there are two main reasons. Firstly, I don't think the Funkelay Cage was built and that demon summoned solely to kill you. I'm almost certain, as are the Custodians, that there was a lot more mischief planned. Your death would only have been the start.'

  'Damn, and I was just starting to feel important.'

  'The second reason,' said Granddad, ignoring the interruption, 'is rather more sinister. To understand it you'll need to know a little about the process of death. When a person dies under what we might call normal circumstances, their soul separates from the body and goes on to the next stage of its existence.'

  'Which is?'

  'I don't know, Trevor, I'm not dead.'

  'Wouldn't Agatha know?'

  Granddad sighed. 'No. Sometimes a soul remains strongly bound to its past life and can't move on. Those are the ghosts, or spirits as Agatha prefers to be called. She doesn't know what lies beyond because she's never been there.'

  'So what happened to her to keep her bound here?' asked Trev.

  'That's Agatha's story to tell, if she wants to,' Granddad replied. 'She may tell you once she feels more comfortable with you, but I'm not going to make that decision for her.'

  'Where is she today, anyway?'

  Granddad shook his head. 'The same applies. Where she goes when she's not with us is her business. She'll tell you if she wants to.'

  Trev shrugged. 'Fair enough. Go on, then.'

  'Right, as I said the soul separates from the body, but that's not all that happens. The energy in the body also leaves. There's a cycle, Trevor. New life absorbs energy and uses it to grow. When that life becomes worn out and dies, its energy returns to the earth and everything begins again.'

  'So, like reincarnation, sort of?' said Trev, frowning.

  'You could use that term, yes,' Granddad replied. 'I like to think of it as a form of recycling.'

  'Nice.'

  'Yes. But that's not all. That energy carries with it a signature, a blueprint if you like, for that being. It means that the potential exists for another similar being to come along in the future. Not exactly the same of course, because it would have a different soul, but similar.'

  Granddad took a swallow of his whisky before continuing. 'The cycle maintains balance, you see. Powerful beings, such as yourself, can only pop up infrequently. The weight of numbers is always with the average.'

  'It's making my brain hurt, but I think I get it,' said Trev. 'So what does this have to do with the demon?'

  'I was getting to that,' replied Granddad. 'When a demon captures a soul using a kris, it takes the energy with it. It doesn't get returned to the cycle, hence the potential for that being to recur is removed. Essentially, Trevor, by using a demon to kill you Kolley's co-conspirator wasn't just disposing of a powerful enemy. He or she was also making sure that the chances of such an enemy turning up again were greatly reduced.'

  'Bloody hell,' said Trev. 'So not only would they be killing me, they'd also be preventing there being any new versions of me in the future. Even years and years ahead?'

  'Exactly so. It's a quite frightening example of long-term planning.'

  Trev suddenly wished he was able to have that glass of whisky after all. 'You weren't kidding when you said it was sinister, were you?'

  'I'm afraid not. As I said, there's clearly a scheme in progress here, of which your death would have been just a part.'

  'And that means they'll try again,' said Trev with a shiver.

  'That seems to be the logical conclusion,' agreed Granddad. 'I very much doubt they would've expected you to defeat the demon, so their plans have had a big hole shot through the middle of them. If they're the methodical types we think they are, they'll take some time to re-assess the situation now. Sooner or later, though, they'll be back.'

  'Why can't they piss off and leave me alone?' growled Trev. 'They brought me into this in the first place! If they'd just let me get on with my life I might never have ended up fighting against them.'

  'I don't think that's the way they would look at it,' Granddad said sadly. 'From their point of view it doesn't matter whether you're actively opposing them or not – the fact remains that you have the potential to oppose them. That's what they were trying to rub out.'

  'You may as well read me the last rites now, then,' said Trev. 'These aren't the sort of people to give up, are they? They're bound to get me in the end.'

  'Not if I, or the rest of the Custodians for that matter, can help it,' said Granddad, his expression stern. 'We're not going to just sit about and wait for them to re-draft their plans. We're going to find them and stop them.'

  'Wish I had your confid
ence,' said Oscar sleepily.

  'It speaks,' muttered Trev. 'Been listening in?'

  'Of course I have,' replied the cat, stretching. 'It's not like I could sleep properly with you two banging on like that. Plus my bad leg is itching like you wouldn't believe. I'd give anything to be able to scratch it.'

  'I would believe, actually,' said Trev. 'It's not like I'm any stranger to painful limbs at the moment.'

  'Pah, you got off lightly compared to me. I don't see any plaster casts on you.'

  'It's your own fault, you should move faster.'

  'Oh it's like that, is it? Right, that's the last time I save your life, monkey-boy.'

  'Hopefully it'll be the last time I need you to.'

  'Stop it, you two,' said Granddad. 'This is important.'

  'Just trying to lighten the mood,' said Oscar, settling back down in his basket.

  'Thanks for your efforts,' said Trev, with heavy sarcasm. He turned back to Granddad. 'So how do we go about tracking down Kolley's mate?'

  The old man deflated somewhat. 'I don't know,' he admitted. 'The Custodians have been going through the books and things that they took from the house. They're hoping they'll find a clue there. I've spoken to all my contacts in the supernatural community but nobody seems to know anything.'

  'Or if they do, they're not talking,' Trev added. He clenched his fist. 'Maybe we should question Corbyn again. I'd quite like to have another quiet word with that arsehole.'

  'He's gone to ground, apparently,' replied Granddad. 'Hardly surprising. He's always had the knack of being conspicuous by his absence whenever the tide turns against him.'

  'Do you think Corbyn could be the accomplice?'

  'It's very unlikely,' said Granddad with a shake of the head. 'Summoning demons requires intense preparation, self-restraint and patience. Corbyn isn't known for having any of those qualities. He's selfish, shallow and has an attention span you could measure in fractions of a second.'

  'Sounds like we can rule him out.' Trev scowled. 'I'd still like to get my hands on him, though. Not happy about him going after my friends.'

  'I don't think you'll be clapping eyes on his any time soon,' said Oscar. 'The Custodians are looking for him now, because they've finally got something they can pin on him. He'll disappear.'

  'Selfish and shallow, but not stupid,' agreed Granddad.

  'Speaking of your friends, how's that girl?' asked Oscar.

  'Sarah?'

  'Yeah, her. Is she coping all right?'

  'You could say that. She's been pestering me all week, wanting to know more about what we do. What you do, I mean.'

  Granddad raised his eyebrows. 'It seems like she's recovered from her initial distress, then.'

  'Pretty much. She's got a bit of a thing for the supernatural. It's been quite exciting for her to find out it's all true.'

  'I left out her involvement when I gave the Custodians my version of events,' said Granddad. 'Things were complicated enough already. She needs to keep quiet about what happened, though.'

  'Not like you to keep things from the top brass,' observed Oscar with a grin. 'I'm shocked. Shocked and disappointed.'

  Granddad cleared his throat. 'Yes, well, sometimes they don't need to know everything. As I said, things were already complicated enough.'

  She'll keep quiet, don't worry,' said Trev. 'It's not like anyone would believe her even if she did blab about it.'

  'Not among the general public, no, but she might draw the attention of others. Kolley's accomplice is still at large, remember.'

  'I'll make sure she knows to keep her gob locked, never fear,' said Trev. 'Assuming she lets me get a word in edgewise, of course.'

  'What are the odds on that?' enquired Oscar.

  Trev made a see-sawing gesture with his hand. 'Slender,' he said.

  'Well, do your best,' sighed Granddad. 'In the meantime, I'll arrange for you to have a chat with the Custodians.'

  Trev rolled his eyes. 'I can hardly wait. They're not going to try and recruit me, are they?'

  'Don't be a mug, of course they bloody are,' said Oscar. 'They've only got a handful of people on the payroll with anything like your raw power. They need you.'

  'Maybe they do, but they can't have me. I owe my allegiance to the evil lords of SmoothMove.'

  'At least give it some thought,' said Granddad. 'You could do a lot of good, you know.'

  'I'll hear them out,' said Trev, holding up his hands. 'Just don't expect me to sign up.'

  'You'll need to take The Twins with you, don't forget.'

  'Why?'

  'You weren't expecting to keep them, were you?' snorted Oscar.

  'Well, I thought…'

  Granddad shook his head. 'You can't hold on to them. The Custodians are going to store them in their armoury.'

  'Yeah, best to lock them away than leave them with someone who can actually use them,' muttered Trev.

  'They can't let just anyone muck about with vapour weapons, kiddo,' said Oscar. 'The bottom line is this: you're not a Custodian, therefore you don't get the toys.'

  Trev rolled his eyes. 'Fine, if they're going to be all pissy about it then I'll turn them in.' He looked at his watch. 'Right, my taxi's going to be here in a minute so I'm going to go and get a breath of air outside and wait for it, unless there's anything else I need to know about?'

  'No, I don't think so,' said Granddad, 'although I want you to know that we're all working as hard as we can to find Kolley's accomplice. Try not to worry, we'll catch them before they… well, we'll catch them.'

  'Thanks, it's appreciated,' said Trev. He struggled to his feet. 'Let me know when I have to see the Custodians.'

  'Will do.'

  He said his goodbyes to Granddad and Oscar and went and sat on the wall outside to wait for his taxi.

  He felt strange. A couple of weeks previously he'd been happily ambling along in a bubble of routine, with the reassurance that his future held nothing except more of the same. That was gone now. The little bubble was still going, but Trev was no longer in it. It was drifting away from him even as he tried to catch up.

  He idly gathered some energy into his fingertips, making them glow softly. It was the first time he could remember that he'd been genuinely apprehensive about his future. The route ahead was no longer a comforting straight line, it was a writhing snake; it twisted and looped, and at any moment it might double back and bite him.

  Trev shook his head, trying to turn his thoughts in another direction before he drowned in a sea of metaphors. He was unable to escape one thought in particular, though: someone had tried to kill him, and they were going to try again.

  The energy in his fingertips crackled. 'Come and have a go if you think you're hard enough,' he murmured.

  Trev Irwin returns in Book Two of The Brackenford Cycle:

  Hangman's Pond

  Thanks for reading! Why not share your thoughts about the book with a review on Amazon or Goodreads?

  Trev’s story continues in the standalone novella:

  “DECEASED ESTATE”

  Available NOW on Amazon!

  And look out for Book Two of The Brackenford Cycle:

  “HANGMAN’S POND”

  Also available NOW!

  Copyright Information

  Copyright © 2013 Nick Moseley

  All rights reserved.

  Cover design © 2013 Nick Moseley and David Morson

  Cover photograph © 2013 Nick Moseley and David Morson

  The characters, events and locations depicted in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locations or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  About the Author

  Nick Moseley has held a number of jobs, including salesman, estate agent, forklift truck driver and warehouse manager, and has proven himself fairly incompetent at all of them. Writing has been an invaluable aid to preserving his sanity.

  In his spare time Nick enjoys ten-pin bowling (badly), playing golf (badly) and eating pizza
(well).

  Nick lives in Worcester and has no exotic or interestingly-named pets.

  Follow Nick on Twitter: @NMoseley_Writer